The Lost One
by annieDD
Summary: Many years ago, just before her life had ended, Elia Martell had a decision to make. It is that decision that put Rhae, a young woman, in the place she is now. After keeping her true identity a secret for many years, she is finally getting her revenge and after that, she hopes, her peace. JonXOC slow burn, AU, Season 6
1. Chapter 1

**Yup. Here I go, doing it again. Starting another story.**

 **I couldn't ignore it. I just couldn't. If you know my other work, you know I'm a pretty frequent updater. I can't make any promises now, I don't know how often I will be able to update, but I will not make you wait for too long, especially not if you react well to this story :)**

 **So now we have "Running up that hill", "The Missing Pieces", "Power, Pleasure, Pain" and this one, "The Lost One". I don't know how the hell am I gonna do this, but I'll do my best :D**

 **Disclosure: Jon is not Rhaegar's son. I will reveal more as the story goes, but he is not Rhaegar's child.  
The story will follow the show (yes, even Dorne). By the time I catch up with the end of season 7, I'll decide if I'll continue making it up on my own, or if I'll wait for the show. Depends on how fast I right, I suppose.  
I do not own anything from the GOT universe. I am simply… borrowing it :)**

 **Well, that's it for now. I hope you like it. It's a short one, it's just an introduction, but if you do, if you like it, please, let me know.**

 **Also, WHAT A FINALE! GOOD GOD! I'm still shaking!**

 **Okay, so that's it. Please, if you like it, favorite, follow and most importantly, review. I need reviews more than I need air. I'll be seeing you this week on my other stories (check them out, if you haven't) and hopefully, I will see you soon on Chapter 2 of this specific journey.**

 **Thank you. I hope you'll love it! :)**

* * *

As I stand at the very front of the ship, gripping my overcoat tightly, the ground beneath me moves. It moves up and down, up and down, as the ship crashes through a wave. A wave that is followed by another wave. And after that, another one. The water was showing no signs of stopping, no signs of slowing down. It has a temper, this Narrow Sea.

Not even the sound of water hitting the sides of the ship could not disguise the unmistakable sounds of people falling ill; despite their bravery, the Dothraki are confirming the hushed rumor everyone heard about. They truly do not fare well on the open waters.

When I look at them like this, weak and frail, trying hard to ignore the sounds that surround me, I realize that It is quite admirable, what she managed to do. Never before had the Dothraki crossed a sea, and they are doing it for her. At this point, after everything I've seen, I believe that they would follow her anywhere, no matter where she may lead.

I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down, still desperate to ignore the sounds as I stare ahead of me. I am not enjoying this journey either, not particularly. But unlike the Dothraki, I can keep my food down. At least I could, so far. The lightheaded feeling and even sickness itself would make a small price for me to pay, next to irrelevant, compared to what this journey actually means.

A part of me waited for the first sign of land before us. It was a foolish, childish hope. Deep down, I know I will not see it yet, no matter how much I want to. I had to remind the child in me that we had only left the shores of Meereen the day before.

No, it is not here, but I do not have to see it to know it. I _know_ it is there. It is somewhere out there, patiently waiting for our overdue return. The land I was born in, the land I should have called home for all my life, it is waiting for me, waiting for us. And so are the people who took it away from us.

Those who took it from us call it their own, sitting on thrones and drinking the finest wines.

The time has come for a change. Their time is over and ours is just beginning. We will take back what is ours by right, something that belongs to us. Something that never should have left our grasp.

Our home is waiting for us to take it back.

"Princess," a voice startles me from my deepest thoughts and with a hand on my heart, while trying to steady my breath, I turn around to see Tyrion Lannister approaching me, looking steadier on his feet than most of our fellow passengers. "I am sorry to disturb you." he tells me, slightly bowing his head in my direction.

"You are not disturbing me, my Lord," I tell him, turning my eyes back to the see before us. From the corner of my eye, I see Lord Tyrion walking over to stand next to me. "I was only immersed in certain thoughts."

"Are you thinking about Westeros?" he asks me.

"I am," I confirm, nodding my head. "It is strange, isn't it? I was born there. I spent the first years of my life there. As I was growing up, all I would ever hear were stories about this strange land that was supposed to be my home. It should have been my home as much as it was yours."

"It should have, Princess," he agrees. "We will change that now," he reassures me with a kind smile. "It will be your home again."

"And yet, I cannot escape the annoyance I fell whenever I remember that it never should have stopped being my home in the first place," I sigh, knowing I might just end up regretting sharing such information with him, despite the trust we have managed to build. "The time has come for a change, my Lord."

"Are you ready for such a change, Princess?"

When I turn around to look at him, I can see true worry on his face; his brows furrowed and his lips in a thin line, with no inkling of a smile. I see worry and I see fear. I cannot allow for that to transfer onto me. I do not have the luxury of feeling fear, not now.

"I have been ready for it for many years, my Lord. I am getting what I want." I promise him.

"What it is that you want, Princess?" he asks, looking surprised at my words.

"My home back and in the hands of my family. And revenge."

I have been spoon-fed with vengeance for many years. It would come from different sources and in different amounts, but it was constant.

The only true family member I have ever known and felt comfortable with calling my family was Oberyn Martell. And ever since the first time we have met, he had been persistent. He would always say that a time will come when all of us will have a chance to collect our debts. He wanted vengeance for many years and he died before he got it. Long before death knocked on his door, he made sure that I had the same desires in me, and he had nursed them, whenever he possibly could.

A woman named Althea did the same. In a much gentler way, compared to my uncle, but she did it all the same. We did not have the same blood, or the same name, but she raised me as if I was her own and without her, I would have been dead, many times over. I will never forget what she did for me, nor the words she would speak in a low voice, always afraid that someone might overhear our conversation and out me for who I really was.

I am a woman grown. Many years have passed since the time I was a child who needed guidance and other people's opinions in order to form my own. I miss both of them terribly, every single day. But as much as I wish to still have them by my side, I know that this is a journey I was supposed to take on my own, and not with my childhood heroes and protectors.

Then again, I am not really alone, am I? I am not the last dragon and neither is she.

* * *

 _Living in a desert, in such scorching heat made me only miss my former home more and more each day. I did not want to leave Lys and I was hoping for a way to stay. I have lived there for 3 years and I have managed to make myself a home, even gain a few weak friendships that would have a chance to bloom, had there been more time. And that was the problem. I could not allow myself to get too comfortable. I could not make a home for myself, have friends and spend days in meaningless conversations. Doing that would make me lower my guard and I could not have that._

 _I needed to be ready at all times. Even when I am not training with my uncle._

 _I can't say who is a bigger nemesis, the sun in Volantis that was burning my skin, or him, who was eyeing me up, not as an opponent but as an old, rag doll._

 _I don't even have a chance to hold my spear up properly before he knocks it right out of my hand._

 _"Keep a strong grip on it!" he warns me with a peculiar expression. He is frowning and grinning at the very same time, keeping his brown eyes connected to mine. That is how good of a fighter he is; he does not need to look at my limbs. He only needed to look at my eyes and he would know what my next move would be._

 _I wanted to have the same ability. I have tried and in his defense, he did share his secrets with me, but I never could master it. Not as well as he could. His eyes might be the same color and shape as mine are, but right now, he was not my uncle. He was my enemy and my teacher, at the very same time._

 _"You told me not to hold it with a firm grip!" I complain, remembering very clearly how he had told me not to hold the spear as if I am holding onto it for my dear life._

 _"You need to find a middle, love," he smiles as he starts circling around me. He was the wolf and I was the pray, standing here, with my weapon on the ground, watching as he waits for the perfect moment to attack. If I was to grab my weapon again, by the time I stand up with it in my hands, he would already have his spear to my throat, ready for a deathly stab. "I can't use your hands for you. You need to find a middle ground. It is different, with each spear. You need to sense its weight when you hold it, before you start a fight. You must know your weapon."_

 _"Yes, if I ever was to fight somebody, I am positive they would take their time with the attack, waiting for me to familiarize myself with the weapon I am using," I roll my eyes. "You might be a good teacher, but this is not a realistic situation, is it?" I ask, watching as he raises his eyebrows at me._

 _"No," he smiles at me. "If it was, you would have already been dead."_

 _It was his voice, his low, accented voice. I knew he would never harm me, not in any way, but the words sounded like a promise, like a genuine threat._

 _If he is not playing games anymore, I will not play them either. Knowing the risk, I decide to grab my spear off ground, as fast as I possibly can and this time, I was fast enough. He did attack, just as I thought, targeting my throat, but I was fast enough to block his attack. I only had a second to notice his reaction, but that second alone was enough; he did not expect me to be as fast. I look away instantly, knowing he will attack again. And unlike him, I can't read the attack from the eyes._

 _He attacks and I block, over and over again. Whenever we train together, I am never the one who attacks; I never have a chance to do it. He always was too fast for me, living up to his reputation. The only thing I could ever do was block his attacks and hope for the best._

 _How will I ever learn to be a proper fighter if I do not attack? I may stand my ground, I may know how to defend myself, but can I ever give a deathly blow? Not to the Red Viper._

 _"Dance, love," he instructs me. I open my mouth to snap back at him, but I never have a chance to do so; I need to block again and this time, I need to step away in order to avoid his spear. With dance on my mind, I turn around, as fast as I can. The moment I do so, I feel a blunt spear pressing into my back. I never even had a chance to turn around. "Don't you ever turn your back on an enemy."_

 _"How do you expect me to dance and not turn around?" I ask. His words are more contradictions than actual advice. Keep a firm grip, but do not hold it too tightly. Dance, but don't turn your back. Having him laugh at my annoyance did not help my motivation, which I was already lacking to begin with. "I've had enough for today." I say as I throw my spear on the ground, not even bothering to hide my annoyance._

 _"An enemy will not give you a chance to stop a fight like this." He smiles at me._

 _"I am not fighting an enemy, I am fighting my family," I remind him. "Or has that changed?"_

 _"Never, love," he smiles as he lays his spear down. He treats his spear with respect, slowly lowering it down. I, on the other hand, simply threw mine on the ground. "Never an enemy, always a family."_

 _"You should have brought Nym with you," I complain. "I am better with a whip than I am with a spear."_

 _"A whip is a toy," he dismisses me, as if he is speaking to a child. "A spear is a serious weapon and one you should master. You have talent in you," he smiles as he walks towards me. He stands in front of me, and rests his hand on my shoulder with a firm grip. "Your mother never was the one for a fight. She was gentle and elegant. You may look very much like her, my love, but you have my talents. You are a good fighter. You deserve to learn how to be a better fighter, Rhaenys."_

 _The moment I hear my name spoken out loud, my heart drops._

 _"Rhae," I remind him in a stern tone. "Do not use my real name, not here." I say._

 _I cannot call him uncle, not here. I had managed to be inconspicuous so far and I do not want that to change. Not when I am so close to those who might find the information of my lineage very interesting._

 _Over the years, I had to go through the same thing. The moment I relax, the moment I start enjoying the place I am in, the moment I start enjoying my life, I need to turn around and walk away from it. I do not wait for the threat. I need to be faster than it. I need to make my escape before it finds me._

 _If I had to run away from places where no one knew my name, what would happen to me if someone was to overhear my uncle and decide to believe their ears?_

 _"You should not be ashamed of your name," he tells me as he shakes his head, looking disappointed, perhaps even disgusted with me. "You should say your name with pride. You are a Princess, a Princess of Westeros, taken from-"_

 _"Oberyn," I warn him, knowing how easily he could get carried away when speaking of my parents and what was stolen from me. His tongue is as fast as he is with a spear. "Do not talk like that. I know very well who I am and what was taken from me. I am not ashamed of my name, nor will I ever be. My name is not safe and you know it."_

 _"Do you truly believe that no one knows?" he asks. At least this time he lowers his voice. "Do you think that the fat, drunk King had not spent years trying to find you? He did not believe that poor child was you, not from the day the bodies were shown to him. He was always paranoid and for good reason. He knows you and your father's siblings are alive. Countless assassins were sent your way, Rhaenys. You were simply lucky enough to avoid them in time. People know of you, I promise you that."_

 _"They do not," I shake my head. "They know about Viserys and Daenerys. I am but a rumor."_

 _"You were nothing more than a rumor many years ago," he shakes his head, persistent as ever. "Dorne knows the truth. Dorne is speaking the truth. People are listening and people are better talkers than they are listeners. Soon enough, the entire realm will know that Rhaenys Targaryen, their Princess and rightful heir, is alive."_

 _"They will never find it out from me," I tell him, standing my ground. He knows very well just how stubborn I can be. I got that from my mother's side of the family, him more than anyone else. "I am Rhae. I will never forget the name my parents gave me, nor who they were. I will never forget that, Oberyn. But in order to remember, I need to be alive."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow guys.** _ **Wow!**_ **I was not expecting this to start so well. One chapter and almost 40 follows? Wow. I want to hug every single one of you!**

 **I'll update as soon as I have something done. I expect it to be soon, but I am balancing 5 stories. It is safe to say… weekly? A chapter a week? Sounds good to me! :)**

 **I will include flashbacks and different POV's. And again, in this story, Jon's not Rhaegar's son. He was raised a Snow, as Ned Stark's bastard, but he's not his son either. What could make Ned do that? Why would that baby be so important to him? Well, we'll see! :)**

 **Let me know what you think, I live for the reviews. Thank you so much for giving this a shot!**

 **BTW, English isn't my first language, so some mistakes might slip through, but I do my best :)**

* * *

Uncle Oberyn called it meditation. Uncle Oberyn also claimed I was never capable of doing it. And he was right. Nothing can hold my attention for too long; I will hear a noise and my eyes will snap open, throwing away all the effort I had put into being calm and serene. No matter what I did, I never could have stayed focused. Once he'd finally give up in teaching me, he would laugh at me.

Now, I am going back to his lessons. One of his many, many lessons. I imagine it is not the lesson he would think I'd recall, in times like these. And normally, I really wouldn't. I would never have remembered meditation and deep breathing if the sea was working with us. It is not.

Eyes closed, deep breathing, just waiting for something to distract me. What would it be this time? A strong wave? A window opening? A loud noise coming from the deck of the ship?

And there it is. Two quick knocks on the door.

With a sigh, I wipe away the sleep from my eyes. That is how good I am at meditation: I nearly fell asleep. "Come in."

I watch as Keira steps into my room, a guilty look on her face as she realized that she interrupted my rest.

"My apologies, Princess."

"It's alright," I reassure her as I roll around on the bed, burying my face in the pillow. "What am I needed for now?" I ask, my voice muffled by the pillow; I hear Keira chuckle at my reluctance to be a grown and responsible adult. Well, a grown and responsible Princess.

"The Queen asked to speak with you."

"Is it a council or a casual conversation?" I ask, distancing myself from the pillow.

"I cannot say," she tells me with a small smile. "She simply told me to call for you."

"Very well," I mumble, accepting my faith. "At least one of us should get some rest. Lay down, get some sleep." I tell her as I stand on my feet, straightening my dress as I spoke.

"I am alright, Princess," she reassures me. That is Keira. It does not matter how tired she is, she is always adamant to do her job. "The Queen is in her cabin."

I say nothing else, knowing very well that the girl can be equally as stubborn as I could. I nod my head towards her as I walk out of the surprisingly large cabin; after Daenerys, I had the biggest cabin on the ship. I do not need it, but… Why should I complain?

As I walk through the ship, I pass a few of the Dothraki soldiers that were still on their feet and as I pass, they step aside and bow their heads in my direction, showing me respect. I can remember before, when I first encountered them, how I never even considered that a day would come when they would show me this kind of honor. I am their Queen's niece, her only remaining family. Another living dragon, as they say. I should not be surprised by it, not really.

I stop before her door, and knock, waiting for her permission before I walk in. And even with her telling me to come in, I peak through the door, instead of barging in like I was the owner of this ship.

"Your Grace?" I speak up, watching as she shifts in her chair, looking up from the paper in her hands to smile up at me.

"Come in, Rhaenys," she tells me. Hearing my name makes me do a double take, and a chuckle. "Did I say something humorous?" she asks with a small smile.

"No," I shake my head as I close the door behind me. "It is still very unusual for me to be called by my name. My real name, that is."

"I have been calling you Rhaenys since the day we met."

"Yes," I smile. "And it is still very unusual. I used to silence anyone who would be brave enough to say my name out loud. After all, I never had such bravery. Even now… it is still a habit of mine, I suppose." I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to give it more thought. It does not matter now and I will grow out of it. Whether it is Rhaenys, Rhae or even Princess, I will answer to all.

"Don't just stand there," she tells me through laughter. I walk over to the desk, sitting in the only vacant chair on the other side. "If the name Rhae gives you more comfort, I can call you that." She offers.

"It is very strange, I know," I chuckle, pushing the hair away from my face. Whenever I am nervous, I do that. No wonder Missandei suggested I should braid my hair more often. Even after all this time, after everything that has happened, I still get nervous when I speak to her. I may be older of the two, but she is my aunt. And she is a Queen. If that means I will have to sport greasy hair as a result, I will take it. "The name Rhae was a mask, a mask I was forced to wear for too long. But that named was said by many people, many people I cared for and still do. It might have been a mask, but it is also home."

"Then I shall only call you Rhae," Daenerys promises with a smile which I return right away. "How are you feeling?" she asks, surprising me with the sudden show of worry. "I find this situation to be quite unusual for me and I imagine it is the same for you. How are you taking it?" she asks.

"Are you referring to our present location, on a swaying boat in the middle of an open sea, or to the fact that we are so close to the fight for our land?" I ask.

"About the fight," she elaborates. "About everything that awaits us."

I smile, knowing that my smile does not have any genuine happiness in it.

"Dany, I have been waiting for this my entire life," I remind her. "Everything I have ever done, everything I have ever said, it was all meant to get me here. Reuniting with you was the turning point of my life, Dany. Joining you on this journey, trying to right the wrongs that were done to us… It was something I was born to do. You were born to do it as well. Nothing has ever felt more right." I tell her. Unfortunately, it feeling right does not go hand in hand with happiness. I am not overjoyed by it.

"You do know that I could never have done this without you?" she asks me with a raised eyebrow. I smile, honored by her words and at the same time, refusing the very notion of that.

"Oh, you could," I chuckle, shaking my head. "You are strong, Dany. All of this? You would have done it even if I have never approached you. And you would have been successful. You are the one with two armies behind you, not me. Dany, you are the one who was meant to fight for our family and our name. I am but a follower. That was the way it was always supposed to be."

And I do not have an issue with that. There was a time, after I met her, when I thought how it should bother me. Based on old rules that should be irrelevant, I do have a better claim. But she is the one with the army. She is the one people chose to follow, not me. And she has the heart for it, as well as mind.  
I decided to deem those rules irrelevant, at least for me. I do not have a desire to rule. I have a desire for revenge. And after I get it… I will see what I will do.

"You are not a follower," she disagrees. "Rhae… You are aware that when I die, you will be the one leading, aren't you?" she asks me. Those… are not the words I expected to hear.

"They would never follow me," I shake the thought away. "Never."

"They would."

"Once we are in our rightful positions, your children will inherit you." I tell her.

"I have told you before, I cannot have children," she reminds me as she shakes her head. Strangely enough, she seems to be at peace with that. I was told that she lost a child once and that she cannot have children anymore, but when I asked her to elaborate, she had nothing to offer. The way I see it, she ignored her common sense and believed the words of a witch that got her husband killed. For all I know, that witch was speaking the truth, but if I were in Dany's position, I would not accept it as easily.

"And the day that we met, I told you that I do not want that throne for myself," I remind her, standing up as I look directly at her. She might be my Queen, she might be my aunt as well, but she does not command my life and she does not get to tell me what I will or won't do. "I never wanted to take it from you and I do not want to inherit it either. I will follow you wherever you go Dany, but I will never be Queen. I can promise you that. If I may be excused." I say as I turn around and walk towards the door, not waiting for her permission to do so. As I close the door after me, I lean on the wall, closing my eyes as I try to calm down the anger in me.

To hell with meditation. I need a glass of wine.

By the time I got to my cabin, my knees are ready to buckle and my feet are about to give away. I have never felt this way after a confrontation, and what Dany and I had was _not_ a proper confrontation. Never before have I struggled to voice my opinion and stand my ground. Then again, never before did I have to be so adamant about something. Especially not while disagreeing with a Queen.

It does not matter whether Daenerys wants it or not. It is not an option.

As I twirl a glass of wine in my hands, my mind taking me back to the time I first met Daenerys.

I always was a brave girl. Perhaps lacking in intelligence, but never bravery. Oberyn always compared us, saying how both of us were too brave for our own good. After all, it is a Martell family trait and I am as much of a Martell as I am a Targaryen. I welcomed that bravery. Oberyn's got him killed, and mine? Well, mine got me to Daenerys.

I walked right into her camp, leaving my weapon behind. Thousands of Unsullied soldiers surrounded me and I did it. I walked up to her, showed her my respect and stated, very openly and directly, that I am her niece. Her niece that was proclaimed dead after the Sack of King's Landing.

Looking back on it now, I was a fool. At that moment, I was the biggest fool there was. It was reckless, stupid, insane and it could have cost me my head. Even now… I don't even know what I was thinking. I was driven by my desire for revenge, driven by the words of my uncle and the death of the woman I considered my mother. The woman that raised me told me on her deathbed to seek out the only family I have left. With Oberyn's peril, the strength of my relationship with the remaining Martells weakened. When Althea told me that Daenerys Targaryen was the only family I have, she was speaking the truth.

I stood before Daenerys and I told her everything.

Had it not been for Ser Barristan Selmy, Barristan the Bold, my head would have ended up as a decoration to a lone spike. His presence was the only thing that kept me alive that day.

He saw how much I looked like my mother, with traces of Rhaegar Targaryen in my face. He knew Althea by her name, just as he knew about the existence of the secret passages she dragged me through on my mother's orders. He knew Elia Martell well enough to know she would have done all she could to protect her children.

He was not there when it had happened, but he knew of the aftermath.

He recognized the pendant I wore on my necklace, the only thing I had left of my mother. A Sun pierced by a spike, the sigil of her house. And the words I said made him believe I was telling the truth.

I retold the words Althea told me. How my grandfather, King Aerys Targaryen, the Mad King, refused to hold me in his arms when I was presented to the royal court, simply because I looked 'too Dornish'. I favored my mother. No silver hair, no magically colored eyes. Simply a babe, with milky skin, dark hair and eyes. With a bitter taste in my mouth, I told him how Prince Rhaegar used to sing to me, sing to me about the Dance of Dragons, something Althea would secretly listen to, claiming he had a beautiful voice. I told him how my mother called me by the name I was forced to use after I fled: Rhae.

Seeing Ser Barristan believe my words made Daenerys question her own beliefs, but she did not back away with ease. She asked a very simple question. A simple question that was followed by a difficult answer. She wanted to know why.

Why have I waited for so long? Why did I not approach her sooner? If I was speaking the truth, if I truly was her brother's daughter, why did I not seek her out?

I answered honestly. I listened to the whispers that followed her and her brother. I did not need my uncle to tell me that it was not safe, I knew it myself. Viserys Targaryen was not what one would call a stable man. He would have me killed, believing I wanted the crown for myself. He would not believe my claims that I do not want it. After everything that she had done, all the people she had saved and slaves she had freed, I believed Daenerys would listen. I believed she would believe.

For a long time, I did not believe it was achievable. They sought out help, loyalists, support. I thought that to be foolish. I could have done the same. Compared to them, I even had more help, given that I had Dorne supporting me since I was seven years old. I did not do it. I could, but I did not. I valued my life more than I did glory. I did not want glory, or a crown. I just wanted to live in peace.

But then, revenge started growing and embracing me, stretching like vines along my body. Oberyn watered that revenge. Logic tends to weaken when revenge takes over. With Althea's last words urging me to seek out the last of my blood, I had no choice.

I remember it as clear as day. I remember the look in her eyes, the traces of doubt. Perhaps a part of her wanted to believe. After all, she was alone as well. She believed she was the last Targaryen and I simply… marched in, destroying that belief. I believe that a part of her wanted to believe, as much as it would have been easier to call me a liar and throw away all my claims. She must have wanted to believe me; after all, she listened to my words.

She listened to every word I said, she listened to Ser Barristan, who believed _my_ every word, and still, she could not accept it. To this day, I can't blame her for that. I would have been the same, if not worse.

It was the sound that startled me then. I fell down on my knees, ducking and avoiding a dragon. After hearing rumors about her having three of them, I was faced with them. Dragon blood with dragon blood. To this day, I do not know how they felt it. Dany told me afterwards that they might have smelt it on me, but they were not close enough to sniff me out. And I was petrified. I wish I could claim how I welcomed them with open arms and how I felt connected to them. I almost wet myself.

It was Rhaegal. He flew over to me and rested his head against my knee, as I pushed myself back, as much as I could in the position I was in. He was peaceful, not menacing. I remember thinking how I might as well just do it. I touched him. And he allowed me to pet him, giving me the best proof I could offer to Dany.

" _Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion,"_ she told me, as she stared at her dragon in disbelief. _"One named after my husband, two after my brothers. That one is Rhaegal,"_ she pointed at the dragon, who was at that point comfortable with me; comfortable enough to nudge my hand with its head. _"Named after your father. He recognized you. He recognized the dragon blood in you."_

That was all it took. A well behaved dragon and bravery. And a promise that I would not take the throne away from her, if given a chance.

I drink all the wine that was left in the glass, taking a deep breath as I pour myself some more. I never had an affinity for drinking, which could only mean that I will end up regretting this in the morning.

It is all his fault. I am in this position because of him, Dany grew up in exile because of him. Both of us were almost killed, multiple times, because of him. All because of his selfishness.

Oberyn hated him. Ser Barristan would sing his praises and Althea tried to defend him, despite her opinions clashing with the words that actually left her mouth.

Beautiful, noble, brave and intelligent, that goes without saying. But weak and selfish as well. Because of his weakness and selfishness, our house was nearly destroyed, our name tarnished, I grew up without a home and my mother and brother were butchered by the enemy.

She had a choice, a horrible choice. Althea never would have made it if she had two children with her; I was two years old at the time, barely walking on my own. Having a babe as well would have ended her. Two children, one with distinguishable Targaryen features? She never would have made it out of King's Landing alive. And I? I looked like a Martell. No one would look twice at a woman with a small child in her arms, not if she claims to be the child's mother. She made a horrible choice before she met her end. I survived simply because I never looked like a true Targaryen. And it is all because of _him_.

A crown would not give me peace. After years of accepting what had happened, years of fearing for my own life and listening about revenge I needed to seek, a crown would not fill that hole.

Dany deserves it and I want her to have it. Anything other than that would be wrong. If we have lived, if Rhaegar Targaryan did not almost finish us all single-handedly, he would have been a king, my brother being a king after him. Even if the throne was not taken from us, I never would have had a crown of my head. Why would I want one now? Why would I seek such responsibility? She might not be a born leader, but she learned it all the hard way. And she does a damn good job too.

I will not let her force that crown in my hands, or on my head, to be precise. If what she says is true, about her not being able to carry a child, she will have to find another heir.

As soon as we take what is ours, I will step away. I am more than comfortable with being in the shadows. I might be a dragon, but I am no Queen. I may not burn, but I did not rise again from the ashes. We will get back what is ours and I will try to find my own peace.

Living alone, in a small cottage, somewhere in the countryside? Returning to Lys? Perhaps to Volantis? Staying with Dany and watching her do what she does best? Going on an adventure Oberyn Martell would be proud of? I cannot say. I do not know where my peace is. It could be anything, anywere, but it is my duty to do my best and find it, as well as accept it.

There is only one thing I do know. My peace is not within a crown. That is someone else's story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we go guys, a new chapter!  
Big thank you to PamelaPandemic, who helped me edit this thing and served as my second pair of eyes! :)**

 **If you like it, you know the drill. Follow, Favorite, Review. Especially review, it means A LOT to me. I'm still thinking this story was a big risk and it would be nice to know it didn't flop!  
So, anyways, enjoy the new chapter! :)**

* * *

" _You need to find her, Rhaenys, you must do it. I have followed your mother's orders and I have done everything I possibly could to keep you safe but no one is safe anymore. The time has come for them to pay for what they did to my princess and the little prince Aegon. Make them pay Rhaenys, make them shiver with fear as a Targaryen puts an end to them. Make them pay for it."_

As I sharpen my sword, I cannot help but wonder why I am even doing it. It is habit I suppose, after all one must take proper care of their weapons. I learned that even before I knew how to use a weapon properly.

I know how to fight but I am no fighter. I have never killed not in a battle or in single combat. Despite the challenges that lie before us, I find it highly unlikely that Dany will use me as a soldier. I doubt that she will position me among the Dothraki and Unsullied and give me a chance to charge at the enemy forces. If she does decide to do it I am certain I would end up dead. I might be capable with a weapon but that does not mean that I am a soldier, that I will know how to react with such chaos and blood around me. I need to be realistic and well aware of my abilities. As much as I would like to charge and kill them all, I will have to do so from a safe distance. Unless I end up face to face with them; then I will be the one who stabs them to death. The Lannisters will pay.

I remember the day Tyrion Lannister appeared in my life. I wanted to kill him, then and there. Had it not been for Dany, I would have done it without batting an eye. Dany was the one who raised her hand to stop me, who ordered me to wait. I was seething! There he was, right in front of us, the son of a man who had my mother murdered, only to kiss the ass of the future King.

I am not often mistaken but when I am, I do not have a problem to admit so. Dany was right and I was wrong and luckily, she stopped me before I managed to make a horrible mistake. Tyrion Lannister was of more use to us alive than he ever could be if he was dead. And he took care of the first step in my stead, by killing his father, Tywin Lannister.

I felt betrayed, as if something was taken away from me, stolen. I was the one who had to do it, he had to die by my hand. It didn't take me long to move past it and just welcome the fact that he was dead. Uncle Oberyn got his revenge and he paid for it with his life. He killed the man who raped and murdered my mother, and Tyrion Lannister killed the man who gave the order.

I do not doubt that Oberyn managed to find his peace. He died before his time, that goes without saying but his mission was fulfilled. He ended the man who had brought him so much grief. Tywin Lannister was murdered by his son and I was left empty handed, partially.

If Tywin Lannister saw no issue in ordering innocent children to be murdered, followed by the murder of their mother, I will see no issue in killing his remaining family members, save for Tyrion. After all, what was the fault of my mother? What was the fault of my brother? Princess Elia married a man with a mad father and with a talent of making stupid mistakes. And my brother? He was simply born.

A life for a life, well two for two. Cersei Lannister and Jaime Lannister for my mother and brother.

Oberyn was avenged with the death of Cersei Lannister's daughter. That I had an issue with since Oberyn was not murdered. I had heard, from Tyrion Lannister himself, that his death was gruesome and as horrible as the whispers claimed but Oberyn was not murdered in cold blood. He made a decision, he wanted to fight in Tyrion's stead and so he did. As horrible as I felt about it, he did that to himself.

No, I will probably not go to the battlefield but my uncle taught me to respect my weapons, to keep them sharp and at the ready. In honor of him and what he did for me; I will keep to that and I will practice daily, no matter how difficult it is to practice in a cabin of a ship.

I sharpen the sword, I sharpen the spear, and I clean the whip, smiling as I remember Oberyn calling it a toy. Compared to a spear it is but it still might come in handy.

"Come in," I mumble absently as I lay the weapons down on my bed. I look up to find Keira standing by the door. "Who wishes to speak with me now?" I ask. Can a girl not have some peace?

"The Queen," Keira tells me. "In fact, she invited me to join as well."

"Join what, the council?" I ask in confusion. Keira might very well be my only friend in the world but she is no military commander or one of our allies.

"Join her grace and Missandei for supper."

I did not always understand Dany, or the decisions she made. For as long as I have been with her, she has not made many mistakes and even when I do not understand her, I do not disagree. I accept her as a Queen. Whatever she decides, that is the decision I will follow; and now for whatever reason, she seems to think that Keira, Missandei, herself, and I should dine together tonight. Well, I do like Missandei well enough.

"Well, let's get going, shall we?" I smile as I walk over to her, linking our arms as we walk out of the cabin. I look at my handmaiden and I see her grinning like a child who just got permission to eat a little bit more of their favorite sweet. I imagine Keira never really thought a day might come when she would be seated at the same table as a Queen. I can't blame her for that, I never thought I would do the same.

We must have these little moments if we want to preserve our sanity. Not only Keira and myself but Dany too; hell, Dany might need it more than the two of us combined. We must remember that before we are a queen, a princess, or a handmaiden, we are also human; human and young. Yes we are going to fight and yes it is going to be very difficult but we are not fighting for the sake of fighting, there is a goal. Hopefully, when all of this is over, we will have peace. Moments like these, like the smile on Keira's face when she realizes she will be sitting with a Queen, they must serve as a reminder; our words may be 'Fire and Blood' but that is not all that we long for.

* * *

Too many glasses of wine later, laughter filled Dany's cabin. We were all laughing at one of Keira's stories and as I stopped to take a deep breath, I looked around me and realized just how odd this whole setting is, particularly Dany and her behavior.

The girl never laughed much.

 _The girl_ , I should not be calling her that, not even in my mind. I might be older than her but she is still my Queen and more importantly, my aunt.

I can recall the time when she was sad. I was helping her lock up Rhaegal and Viserion in the dungeon back in Meereen. It felt wrong, it truly did. As their mother, I imagine she felt even worse than I did. I still remember the sadness on her face when she cried as they were being locked in there.

I remember her when she was angry, there were more occasions but the one time that I saw pure anger in her was when she sent Ser Jorah away. I suppose she felt betrayed then, sad as well. She trusted the man, possibly even more than she trusted me, at least at the time.

They say that the betrayal of those closest to you pains the most. My family was betrayed but I was never, not directly, not by someone I knew, loved, and respected. Hopefully that will not change.

All the negative emotions are in the past, not just for Dany but for all of us. For one night, perhaps one night alone, we decided to pretend as if none of it was true. Not the war we were about to start, not the problems that we might face and not the price we'd have to pay if it is not successful. For one night, we decided to laugh and simply forget.

I have known Keira for years and even though she can be solemn and quiet, I have seen her laugh. Hell, I've even made her laugh. Both she and Rass often said that I am very funny when I want to. I suppose they are right, I did make them laugh quite a bit. Unlike them, Dany was not such an easy task. Despite the trust I have in her, we do not know each other. Even now I do not know her as well as I would like, but I can tell with each passing day that we are closer to one another. It was a nice change to see her laugh and have some fun. If she keeps it up maybe we will become even closer.

Missandei laughs at Keira's joke and I smile, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere between us but as I turn around to Dany, I see how her own smile slowly fades away and is replaced by a solemn look.

"Dany, what is the matter?" I ask. I was hoping that Keira and Missandei will not pay attention to the two of us, seeing as they were both laughing at something, but their heads turn to Dany at once.

"I-" Dany starts and I watch as she completely gives up on her tries to find the right words. She lets out a laugh and shakes her head. "I am missing Daario," she admits. Out of all the things I was expecting to hear her say, this is not one of them.

"Are you missing Daario… as Daario or are you missing Daario's talents?" I ask with a raised eyebrow, watching as her cheeks change color, hearing giggles from Missandei and Keira. I remember the day I found out about her and Daario; she was not afraid of my reaction, at least I do not think so. Why should she be afraid? She is the Queen, she can do whatever she wants. But I can distinctly remember the relief on her face when I started teasing her about it. I expect she was ready for judgmental glances, not acceptance and jokes.

I think she is not so welcoming of my jests anymore.

I watch as she tries to be all stoic and serious, but then sighs and drops the act at once.

"His talents," she admits in defeat and even joins in on the laughter. "He had plenty."

"Well, I'm sure he still has them," I chuckle. "But he is in Meereen. If it's talents that you miss and not Daario, I'd suggest you to find an equally talented man."

"Where?" she laughs.

"Well, perhaps among the thousands of warriors you are dragging into a war?"

"I am not sure how the Unsullied would be able to assist our Queen, Princess." Keira speaks up. Out of the four of us, I am the only one that does not look down at the table and giggle. I suppose that being Oberyn's niece put me at an advantage. I did not grow up by his side but whenever he could, he would visit and spend time with me. I was a witness of his free spirit more times than I could count.

"I believe Missandei might know the answer to that," I say, chuckling when the girl looks up at me wide-eyed and startled. "You said it yourself darling, Grey Worm likes to watch."

I feel slight guilt as her cheeks blush but I do have a point. She said it herself, to me and Dany. She can't deny it now but judging by her expression, I imagine they did not move past the looks. After all, how could they? The mystery of how much the Unsullied have or don't have was just that.

"What of you, Rhae?" Dany asks, turning the game I was playing against me. "What about you?" she asks. I smile, looking down at my cup of wine as I lift one finger in response to her question. "One time or one man alone?" she asks while grinning at me.

"One man, on many different occasions," I elaborate as Missandei and Keira giggle in embarrassment and Dany raises her eyebrows, looking mildly surprised and impressed at the very same time. "Alas, it has been a while. I believe Keira here has many more stories to share. I have been waiting for her and Rass to tell me they are planning to marry, I have been waiting for years." I say, giving Keira a pointed look. To her credit, she does not blush nor does she look away.

"Princess, Rass and I are nothing other than friends."

"And I have three heads," I say, making Dany and Missandei laugh. "Keira, I understand you not wanting to admit it but Rass only has eyes for you."

I have watched it develop over the years, the two were always inseparable. Rass had a strange kindness in his eyes, whenever he would look at her. I have never seen him look at me in such a way, or anyone else, for that matter, only Keira. When Keira left Volantis with me, I believe Rass followed not because of the gold he would receive from me as payment for his services but for her. He could have stayed behind, with the rest of our household and find another lord or lady to serve, just like the others did but he did not. He joined us and I am certain he was following Keira, not me.

"If he does so, he never spoke of it." Keira admits, looking down at the empty plate of food in front of her. It was almost palpable, the sudden change of mood between the four of us. Moments ago, we were all laughing and now we were silenced by the possibility of unrequited love.

It must be truly horrible. I have never felt it, not unrequited love, or any other kind. I do not know what it feels like to have your heart ache after someone who does not even look at you twice. I can act all high and mighty but the truth of the matter is I do not know what it is like to feel loved. Having someone desire you does bring a flush to your cheeks and a comfortable feeling in your gut but it is not much more than that. Physical pleasure must be so irrelevant compared to the pleasures of heart and I have never felt that. I am starting to wonder if I ever will.

"I think we should change topics," I speak up, holding up my glass. "We are four lonely ladies and if we keep on discussing our loneliness, we might just end up making pivotal mistakes on the way back to each of our chambers," I say, relieved when laughter filled the cabin once again. "To four lonely ladies who are still powerful and smart despite the loneliness." I offer, lifting my glass up. Laughing, all of us lean over the table and clink our glasses together.

* * *

I feel the hair on my arms rise, caused by the cold air that surrounds me. I lift my arms to cover myself better, protect myself from the cold, only to find that I had no cloak on. I look at my clothing and realize I am wearing a thin summer dress. The slippers on my feet are not enough to protect me from the stone floor I am standing on.

Stone floor? I look up and around, only to realize that I am not on the boat but in a hallway. Stone and dark hallway, with the only light source being the torches on the walls before me. I turn around, surprised to find that the torches behind me are not lit. Behind me there is only darkness. With no other option before me, I start walking, rubbing my arms as I try to warm myself as best as I could.

It seems like the hallways is endless. I was about to turn around, take one of the torches and make my way to the other side of it, when the hallway finally ended with a door that was before me. Without thinking twice about it I turn the door handle and walk through the door. Another lit hallway awaits me and I make my way through it. It only takes me a few steps to inter a large, open room.

It was lighter than the hallway but still fairly dark. The sun coming through the windows was not enough; candles and torches were lighted along the walls. The walls draw in all of my attention as I notice that they are carved. I have never seen such carvings, not in stone. I walk closer to it, touching it with the tips of my fingers. It takes me a moment to realize that the half-circles are meant to represent dragon skin. I step back, looking up as I try to take it all in. It is a dragon.

I turn around, looking at the rest of the unfamiliar stone hall. The chandelier that is hanging from the ceiling is as frightening as it is impressive. The melted candle wax does not make it look any more appealing. My attention travels to the table before it and it takes me a moment to realize what its odd shape reminds me of. As I walk closer to it I confirm my suspicions. It is shaped like Westeros.

I touch the table, not surprised to find it is cold. My fingers trace the outline of it as I walk down, traveling from Beyond the Wall, across the North and down to the Riverlands, resting above Riverrun.

"Elia?" a soft voice asks, making me nearly jump out of my own skin. I look up as I see a man walking over towards me. I did not even notice him when I first walked in and looking at him now, I wonder how. He is tall and beautiful, with a sharp jawline, straight nose and high cheekbones. When my eyes meet his I feel my heart drop as the realization takes over me. Indigo eyes, indigo eyes and silver, long hair. I watch how his expression changes as he looks at me in wonder. "Rhaenys?" he asks in disbelief.

I couldn't speak, even if I wanted to. The ability to form a coherent thought leaves me as I stand face to face with my father.

"Rhaenys?" he asks again, lifting his hand and moving it closer to me as if he wants to touch my face.

"Stay away from me!" I utter, taking a step back. I am having difficulty breathing and I can't tell if it's because of the shock of seeing him in the flesh or because of pure rage I am feeling. "Don't you dare and touch me!"

"Rhaenys, wait!" he lifts his arm up again but I step back. I need to get away from him, I need to go. I turn around and start running, storming through the open door and down the hallway, hearing him call for me as I run. I don't care, I don't stop. I run, run until I can no longer hear his voice calling me.

* * *

My eyes snap open and I put a hand over my chest, feeling as if my heart was going to jump out of it at any given moment. I try to calm my hitched breaths but I am not successful. The more I try to concentrate, the less it is working. The little control I have left is slipping out of my grasp.

It is a dream, it is nothing but a bad dream, it is not real.

With my heart still beating fast, like the heart of a frightened doe, I sit up and lean on the headboard, hoping that the seated position might help me breathe. I need air. I need fresh air and I am not going to get it in this cabin. I jump up, furiously looking for my slippers and as soon as I find them I am out the door, not bothering to throw on a cloak over my shoulders. I see no one as I make my way up to the deck of the ship. The moment the cold, fresh air enters my lungs I feel calmer. I walk over to the edge of the boat and grip the railing with my hand. I can hear voices behind me, speaking Dothraki as they keep the ship afloat and go about their business. Not wanting any company, I start walking to the very front.

The cold I felt now reminded me of the cold I felt in the dream but it was too late for warmth now.

I was at Dragonstone. It had to be Dragonstone, the castle I was born in, the ancestral seat of my family. What castle in Westeros has dragons carved in their stone walls? The Red Keep doesn't; Tyrion Lannister told us that much. There is a reason Dragonstone is our destination and not King's Landing.

I was standing in my home, face to face with the man who fathered me.

I sob escapes me as I hold on tightly to the railing. I don't remember him. No matter how hard I have tried I could never recall what his face looked like or the sound of his voice. I don't remember my mother either. I have a very faint memory of a kind smile but that is where it ends. They are as foreign to me as the land I am going to.

I only know them from the memories of other people. Uncle Oberyn told me how my mother was kind and always smiling. She told me how her voice sounded like the sweetest fruit from the gardens of Sunspear. Princess Elia was small and lean, a perfect fit for the handsome and noble Rhaegar Targaryen, the man who caught the eye of every woman in Westeros that ever walked passed him, young and old alike. The handsome and noble Rhaegar Targaryen that got my mother and brother killed. She loved him, she loved him until the very end. I know it, he knew it and he did not care.

Will a day ever come when I will not say his name with a bitter taste in my mouth? Or will this hate completely take over me, making me despise my family name, as much as I despise him? Because I do despise him, I despise him with every little part of me. I hate him for what he did and for the prices we still must pay because of it. It feels as if I will hate him until my dying day.

* * *

" _He was a marvelous singer," Ser Barristan smiles and I reach over for my cup of wine, knowing I might very well end up regretting it. I could not listen to his words in a normal state. I wanted him to stop talking about him but judging by the smile on Dany's face, he will be urged to talk, whether he wanted to or not. "The kindest man I ever knew, your Grace. Kindest man by far."_

 _I need more, I need more wine. I pour another cup, feeling their eyes shift to me._

" _I apologize, Rhaenys," she speaks up in a kind tone. "I didn't realize that talking about him would awaken emotions in you. I should have known better."_

" _No, not at all," I lie, forcing a smile. "I find it very interesting to listen in on these stories. It is very… interesting, to hear them being told from a different perspective."_

" _Princess, if you heard bad words about your father, do not take them to heart," Ser Barristan shakes his head. "I knew him and I fought by his side for many years. He was the best man I ever knew."_

" _Oh no, I am sure that what you say is true," I respond. I heard those stories as well, even if Althea told them to me with more bitterness than the ones about my mother. "He was one handsome fella, wasn't he? I heard all about his majestic voice. How he could make men shudder and maidens weep. He would have been a magnificent King, I am sure of it. It is a shame he lost his Kingdom because he couldn't keep his desires under control." I add, watching as the two of them widen their eyes at my words._

" _Princess, he was an honorable man," Ser Barristan speaks up. "He had a kind heart."_

" _I am sure my mother had his kind heart in mind while she was being raped and killed because of him," I retort bitterly, gripping my cup with more strength. "A kind heart indeed."_

" _Princess, he would never have dishonored his wife-"_

" _I beg your pardon?" I ask, looking at the man in shock. Has he lost his mind? Is he truly blind? "He dishonored her the day he took that girl away from her home. He dishonored her when he put her and her children aside to satisfy his passing needs. A great warrior and a smart man, I am sure of it but his honor was rotten and you know that."_

" _I know you were not in Westeros to hear such rumors, but-"_

" _And whose fault is that?" I interrupt, watching as he clenches his jaw._

" _-but, many people believe Lyanna Stark went with him willingly. Had the rebellion been extinguished, Robert Baratheon would not have had the voice to speak such lies."_

" _Oh, so you believe she went with him willingly and he did not dishonor her?" I ask._

" _Yes, Princess."_

" _And what of my mother?" I ask, feeling my hands shake with anger. Ser Barristan should not be treated in such a way, I know it. I know it very well but his blindness angers me all the same. "It matters not if he ran away with her or if he stole her. Rapist or not, he still dishonored my mother and practically pushed her, along with my brother and myself, into the hands of the enemy. He left her unprotected. People talk and so they will but we did not lose the throne because King Aerys was mad. We lost it because Rhaegar Targaryen was not satisfied with one woman alone."_

" _Rhaenys," Dany speaks up, looking at me with kind eyes. "I understand why that is difficult for you. Rhaegar was not a perfect man, not by any means."_

" _According to Ser Barristan, he was," I snap, realizing a moment too late that I am speaking with a Queen. Luckily for me, she does not seem insulted by the tone of my voice. I take a deep breath, hoping that I am able to calm myself down. "He was a fool and he lost his life because of it. Not only did he lose his life but we are still paying his debts. He was not a noble warrior. He was a coward and a stupid man."_

" _What Prince Rhaegar did, he did for love," Ser Barristan speaks up, trying to calm me down with his soothing voice. "It was selfish, I know that, but it was the first time in his life that he acted like that."_

" _And the last," I shake my head. "He chose the wrong moment to be selfish, Ser Barristan. I don't care if the girl loved him or if she was stolen. It makes no difference to anyone but her family and I am sure they'd rather choose to believe she was stolen and didn't spread her legs willingly. Calling it love does not make it right. Even if it was mad love, true love, the love of his life, it doesn't change the fact that he had a wife and two children to look after. And he did not. He chose her over us. He chose a woman over a Kingdom. He chose a woman over his family, a woman over his life! And we lost everything because of it! I grew up without a family because of his choice! I never knew my mother because of his choice, because he could not control his fucking cock!" I yell, watching the horror on their faces as I spoke. "I don't care if he loved the girl. My mother loved him and he left her. He left her and his children, because he loved another. When a love like that takes so many lives and makes so many people utterly miserable, it is not right and it is certainly not justifiable." I cry out, my words being more sobs than actual words. Not being able to take their looks of pity any longer, I stand up and walk out of the room without saying another word to them. They can keep on with their lovely conversations about him, I will go elsewhere._

 _I will stay in my room and cry for the mother I never knew, a mother I lost because of Rhaegar Targaryen's stupidity and lack of honor. Rhaegar already has enough people grieving for him, missing the days when he was alive and the best hope the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros had. I'll let the others grieve for him, while I grieve for the woman who died to keep me alive, a woman who died because he wanted another. He'll be alright; after all, the dead can't hear us weep._


	4. Chapter 4

**Here we go guys, here's another one!  
Thank you so much for your continued support and your great reviews! I promise you won't regret giving this story a shot. **

**It's all still new for me, so please, let me know what you think, it'll mean so much. The story is fresh and though I know the exact direction it'll take, I hope I can make it interesting for you.**

 **Also, don't worry about the lack of drama regarding Jon's parentage. It will be a drama, just not a Targaryen one :D We'll have that with Rhae instead :)**

 **So, thank you for sticking around. If you like it, you know what to do! :)**

* * *

 _My legs give up and I fall down on my knees. No one runs to help me. It is evident that I have not tripped and fallen, but that I am simply overcome with emotion. As my knees sink into the wet sand, I reach out and grab a handful of it, feeling it slip between my fingers, watching as the sticky grains cling to my hand. This is my land. A part of the island I was born on._

 _It does not feel foreign. I imagined it would. Westeros has always been a place that belonged to strangers, a place that was never mine, that I could never call home._

 _It doesn't feel like that anymore. As I touch the sand again, I know it is right. I should have been here a long time ago. There is where I'm meant to be._

* * *

On our way to Westeros, I dreamt of this room. When I walked into it today, I was not surprised to see that it looks almost identical to the room in my dream. This one has no dust and no spider webs around it. And here, Rhaegar Targaryen did not appear. I know that man had simply been a product of my imagination, in a dream nonetheless, but as I sit to Dany's right side, I cannot help but scoot to the edge of my seat, expecting a silver haired man to walk in at any moment. I do not want to be here, not in this room.

Not to mention that Dany knows all I have to say. We talk in private every day, since there are some things I do not feel comfortable with everyone else knowing. What I say in council meetings is but a shadow of what I actually think and Dany knows that very well. Tyrion knows it too. It is only his family name that has stopped me from confiding in him as well. I find him to be very smart, charming and even quite funny too, but at the end of the day, he is Tywin Lannister's son. That fact alone prevents me to trust him fully, perhaps as fully as he deserves.

Dany knows all of my opinions and she still wants me here. I could never refuse my Queen and because of it, I now sit in the very room I ran away from in my dreams, with a bunch of people I did not want to be with. I do not mind Yara Greyjoy. She is a smart, capable woman who isn't afraid of speaking her mind. I quite like her, actually. I do not mind her younger brother either, even though Theon Greyjoy never really speaks much. Tyrion is here as well and I do not mind him. Missandei is a friend. Grey Worm… I'm not quite sure if I should consider him a friend or not, but I would very much like to keep him alive. And then, there is her. Ellaria Sand.

I do not want to be in her vicinity and I do not try to hide it. In fact, I had asked Dany not to make an alliance with her at all. I all but begged. I couldn't hold it against her when she didn't listen to me; she needs allies and I had to go over my strong dislike towards Ellaria. While I kept my mouth shut, I know that Ellaria can tell I do not want her here. I have met her a long time ago and never before in my life did she strike me as a person who chooses her words carefully. She was choosing them now.

Her voice irritates me her accent reminds me too much of the accent of the man I loved and his death. She has no right to speak here, not as a representative of Dorne. Her presence here is an insult to the Martell name, a family I am proud to come from, even if I do not wear their name as my own.

"We should wait for Lady Olenna Tyrell to arrive," Tyrion speaks up, interrupting Ellaria in the middle of her sentence. I smirk in amusement at her annoyed facial expression. "We cannot have a complete council meeting if the council is not complete."

"Is she bringing her army as well?" Ellaria asks. Just the tone of her voice is enough to shake me.

"No, she is bringing the food and coin to feed the armies we already have," I say, preventing her from speaking up at the last moment. She knows she can't. She knows I have more power in my hands than she ever will. "What of Dorne? I only saw a few ships, couple hundred men. What happened to the… Dornish power?" I ask, mockingly imitating her accent. I know it is on point when her eyes widen.

"Control your niece, your Grace." She utters, not moving her eyes away from me.

"Respect a princess, Ellaria," I bite back. Oh, I'm going to get an earful from both Dany and Tyrion later, I am sure of it. But I know it'll be worth it. "Unless you want us to take the Dornish without you. I'm sure I would have a say in that, seeing as I'm the only surviving child of Princess Elia Martell. Remember her?"

Ellaria Sand is a smart, capable woman. Not as smart and capable as I am though.

"Rhae, please," Dany warns me. "I know it is difficult, but try to reign in your dislike of Ellaria."

"Oh, I am holding back, I promise you that," I tell her, not moving my eyes away from Ellaria. "I'll be in my chambers. I won't be needed here until Lady Olenna arrives. Besides, all of you know what my opinions are." I say, still staring Ellaria down. When no one, not even Dany, dares to try and stop me, I walk out of the council room, with much more ease than I did in my dreams.

If I am going to be the proper Targaryen Princess that I was born to be, I must learn how to behave. Yes, I am well educated and yes, I know my manners, but I have the explosive temper my uncle had too, which could only lead to bad things. I need to learn how to control myself. Even if Ellaria Sand deserves to be hanged for what she did, the truth of the matter is that we need her. She will not hang and I must teach myself to not let it bother me.

Then again, why not hang her? She killed the Prince of Dorne and his heir. She deserves death. A painful death, if possible. Even the girls deserve it, no matter how much I care for them. I could easily go through with my threat. I could stand up and call for the Dornish lords to stand behind me, as the only surviving child of their Princess, Princess Elia Martell, sister of the ruler they have slain. I would forgive those who joined and murder those who didn't. I could end Ellaria and her infatuation with power with just a few carefully spoken and written words.

The only problem with that plan is that I would have the entire Dorne on my shoulders. I would have to rule. If there is one thing I am sure of, one thing I have been sure of even before I sought out Dany, it is that I do not want to rule. Not as a Queen, not as a Lady and not as a Princess.

But would it truly work? They know of me, all of them. They know that their ruling family, the respected and loved Martells have supported me financially over the years. They know I am the daughter of their princess. Just as they know that I am a foreigner. They do not know me. I wouldn't be surprised if many of them do not believe I am who I claim to be. Gods only know what Ellaria had whispered into their ears. They follow her because the Sand Snakes follow her. And they follow the Sand Snakes because in their eyes, the Sand Snakes are more Dornish than I will ever be.

I could try and start a rebellion, with Dany backing my claim. But I will not. A lot of people would die, I would be responsible for those deaths and I would have to rule, which I do not want. It's one thing to be a Princess, standing behind a Queen, wanting to help her in any way possible and another to be a ruler of an entire region, one that I did not grow up in. Dany has the Dornish support anyways. The last thing we need is to start another war, a war for a cause we are not even interested in. I will get my revenge on Ellaria in a different manner, when the time is right.

I have three more people on my list of people I absolutely cannot stand to see at this very moment, while I am still boiling with rage, and one of those people is waiting in the throne room for our council meeting to be finished. Our eyes meet as I walk by but I do not stop in my tracks. I do not wish to see her and I want to speak to her even less.

I feel like screaming in rage when I hear her following me.

"Obara, leave me be," I say, not turning around. I don't even need to turn around and check, I know it is her. She has been looking for a chance to speak with me ever since we arrived to Dragonstone. I was lucky enough to have traveled on a different ship, but the moment we all stepped on land, I had known my luck would run out. "I don't want to talk to you."

"You're can't keep avoiding me, Rhaenys."

"I can. Believe me, I can."

"No, you can't!" she persists and I suddenly feel a grip on my wrist. She pulls me back and I nearly lose my balance. By the time I turn around to face her, I am fuming with anger. She's still gripping my wrist, so I snatch it away, despite the strength of her grip.

"Do that again and I will rip your arm off."

"No, you won't," she shakes her head, looking slightly smug. "I know how to defend myself."

"Yes, but you mustn't forget that the person who taught you self-defense also taught me how to fight," I utter, watching how her face changes color at the mention of her father. "Stay away from me, Obara. You, Ellaria and your sisters. I have nothing to say to you."

"We did what needed to be done!" she snaps. I turn around and start walking away. I knew she would justify it like that. I don't need to hear it. "He needed to be avenged!" I did not want to engage in this conversation, but I couldn't control my tongue.

"Did he?" I ask, turning around. "Did he really? He voluntarily entered that trial by combat, Obara. He did it willingly, knowing very well that he might die. It was his choice. He wasn't betrayed or stabbed in the back, he was killed in a trial by combat he himself chose to fight!"

"He was killed by the Lannisters while defending one of the Lannisters!" Obara yells.

"Then have you killed the Lannisters?" I ask. Even now, when I look at the annoyed expression of her face, I don't get any pleasure from it. I am not winning a fight. I am proving her wrong but I take no joy in it. "Do not try to justify the unjustifiable, Obara. Not with me."

"He wouldn't have done anything," she shakes her head. "He didn't want to do anything to defend his brother, his own blood. He was the worst leader Dorne has ever had."

"And what of Trystane?" I ask as I walk over towards her. "What did that boy do to you? Lie to someone who believes it, Obara. You didn't kill Prince Doran because of revenge or because he was a bad leader. You killed him because you, your sisters and bitch of a mother wanted power."

"That isn't true."

"Oh, isn't it?" I laugh. "I knew Oberyn, Obara. He was the only real family I have ever had. He was the only one who ever made an effort to get to know me. You? Nym? Tyenne? The only reason any of you bothered to get to know me is because Oberyn insisted on it."

"Doran was the first one who never wanted to know you."

"And should I want him dead because of it?" I ask. Once again, her face changes colors. I did not realize just how much hatred I felt towards her until this very moment. "You are right. Doran only ever sent gold, Oberyn was the one who wanted to be my family. And I do not blame Doran for it. I am a walking, talking reminder of his dead sister. Him not wanting me by his side does not make him deserving of death. Your excuses are very poor, Obara. We both know Oberyn would kill you with his own two hands for what you did to his brother and nephew. Do not call it revenge; call it what it is. Kinslaying."

That word, that one word leaves her silent. She doesn't look as confident as she did moments ago, nor does she look as if she is about to stop me. I keep my eyes on hers one moment more before I turn around and walk away. She confirms my suspicion and doesn't follow me again.

I don't understand. I really don't. And I have tried to ever since I heard of what they did, but I cannot justify it. Did Dany take her dragons and burn everyone and everything in her sight? No, she did not. She has the power to do so but she decided not to. I want to kill Ellaria with my own two hands. Am I doing it? No, I am not. Why am I not doing it? Because it is not the right thing to do.

I am sure the three of them would go after me if I was to harm Ellaria in any way but I also know that I could simply stand behind three dragons if they were to do so. I would like to see how the Sand Snakes could fair against three full grown dragons, one of which is surprisingly loyal to me as well.

It would all be easier if I just wanted to rule. In an ideal situation, I could have Dorne's support in a matter of days, if not earlier. It was my mother's home and I could rule it, pledging my loyalty to Dany once she takes over the throne. The only problem is that I truly do not want that. I do not want such responsibility, to have so many people depending on me and the decisions I would make. I do not want to marry for an alliance; I do not want to burden my children with a kingdom to rule. I do not want to make anyone else pay for my mistakes, not when I have spent the last twenty years paying for the ones Rhaegar Targaryen made. I am not going to do that to someone who should remain completely innocent.

I almost get lost in the halls; these are not the ones I had run through in my dreams. After searching for a long time, I finally open the door to a room that looks like the one I was in earlier. I am not sure until I see three spears leaned on the wall. Keira has already tried to make me feel more comfortable in this unusual place.

Unusual it is, but it is not frightening in any way. I imagine that anyone else would feel uneasy with all the dragon carvings in the walls of every room but I do not. If there ever is a place that looked as if it was my home, it is Dragonstone.

The only fear I have now is that the dreams will remain. I do not have them every night, but when I do, my throat clenches and tears fill my eyes. I am afraid that being at Dragonstone, the same place I have been dreaming of, will only make them worse and more vivid. I am afraid that one night, he will be too fast for me to escape and he will manage to puts his hand around my wrist to stop me. I am afraid of the conversation that might follow if he does so. Yet every time I dream of being in that hallway, I cannot make myself turn around and walk away, even if I know what is waiting for me in the council room.

A loud noise makes me jump up and I turn around, watching as he slams the door shut behind him.

Another person I do not wish to see, much less be left alone with.

"We need to talk," Daemon Sand tells me. I had seen him before we left Meereen but it was only from afar. We were not on the same ship for the journey to Westeros and I am thankful for that. I did not wish to speak to him then and I don't want to speak with him now. And yet here he is, in my own chambers, looking just as good as the last time I laid eyes on him. "You have been avoiding me and I get the feeling that you've been doing it on purpose.

"I have no problem to admitting that," I shrug, doing my best to look unfazed both by his words and his presence. My heart might not ache for him but it would be stupid to say that I do not care for him at all. That still doesn't mean I can't avoid him. "When someone doesn't want to speak with you, they avoid you. That's exactly what my intent was, Daemon."

"Why?" he asks. I knew it the moment he walked in; he isn't going to give up easily.

"I simply do not want to," I shrug. I have no particular reason. He did not wrong me, not in the ways Ellaria and the Snakes did. As far as I know, he was not a part of the mutiny that ended my uncle and cousin. Then again, Daemon had always been loyal to Oberyn. If he thought he was avenging him, can I truly believe that he had no part in it? At this point, I am afraid of what I might find out if I question him. "I have enough on my plate as it is. Dornish drama isn't going to help me now."

"You know I do not bring you any drama," he tells me; his voice is lower than it was just moments ago and my eyes widen when he starts walking towards me. He does it slowly, on purpose. Foolishly, I take a step back, knowing that will not stop him from reaching his me. "I have missed you, Rhae. It's been too long." He calmly states, still walking my way.

"Daemon, it is over," I shake my head, reminding him of what I told him the last time he spent the night in my room. "I am not that stupid girl without a care in the world any longer. We are no longer in Essos. I'm not Rhae anymore. I am Princess Rhaenys Targaryen and I need to act that way."

"You are still the same person," he shakes his head. "You are still that girl."

"Perhaps, deep down," I sigh. I'll never be able to explain the difference to him. He will never understand. "But I can't act in the same way I did before. I have grown up, Daemon. You were there when I was young and foolish and I can't afford to be young and foolish anymore. I don't want that. It's not duty that is stopping me from being with you again. It's my own decision. We never loved one another anyway and you know that." I add, feeling slightly angered at his persistence.

It had never been love, not even one-sided love. We liked each other well enough, and I suppose there had been passion, to a certain extent, but there was never love. He can't just barge into my chambers and say he wants me again when everything I could offer he could get from any other girl.

And he truly could. Daemon is a very handsome man, well built, with piercing blue eyes and long, dark hair. He doesn't even have to show his smile and dimples to have women swooning over him. After all, I was attracted to him for a reason. He is handsome and kind. At the time, I had been rebellious and our affair had been as foolish as it was dangerous. We had certainly had fun while it lasted but it is over now.

"I am not falling on my knees, claiming to love you," he smirks. He stands in front of me. I am cornered, with him in front of me and a wall against my back; I walked away as much as I could. "I am asking you for one last goodbye. You said it yourself, you are Princess Rhaenys Targaryen now. I will gladly go to war wherever you and your aunt send me but I might never come back. We have made this mistake many times over. Why not make it again. One last time?"

Not even his speech is going to make me agree to it. I will remain adamant, I know what I want and what I do not want but then his hand slides around my waist and before I can move away, he pulls me closer.

The moment our lips touch, all of the common sense I have decides to leave me. For one moment alone, I feel like Rhae and not Rhaenys. I feel like the girl I am and not the woman I have to be. Wanting to prolong that moment and enjoy one more evening before all Seven Hells rain down upon us, I throw my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to me.

* * *

"They have settled at Dragonstone," Davos tells me, giving me a pointed look. He is a fan of those, it would seem. "I believe you had a proper education as a child, your Grace. I am sure your maester taught you how close Dragonstone is to King's Landing."

"And how far both are from Winterfell," I remind him as I take off my gloves and throw them on the desk. Davos is already sitting by the time I sit behind it. He's giving me that look again. "I don't care about their war. I can't care about their war. Not when the real threat is much closer to us then they are."

"And if the White Walkers and the army of the dead don't kill us, one of them will."

"So it'll be Cersei Lannister we face or the Targaryen girls?" I ask, watching as Davos nods his head. I remember the talks about the Targaryen girl with three dragons. I remember when rumors of another Targaryen started. "Two of them?" I ask the man. I should already name him my Hand. He's been doing the job for a while now.

"Daughter of the Mad King and daughter of Prince Rhaegar."

"And they are working together?" I ask in surprise, but the old knight simply nods his head again. "It's difficult for me to imagine two women not bickering about such a powerful position." I say and Davos shrugs his shoulders.

"One of them is a Queen and the other one isn't," he shrugs his shoulders again. "If they are bickering about who's in charge, they sure aren't showing it to the rest of Westeros."

"It makes no difference," I sigh, looking down at the map before me. As I pointed out, Winterfell is too far for either one of the two Houses to attack us. "They will fight the Lannisters, the Lannisters will fight them, until one of the two families is long gone. They can play their little war amongst themselves; I have more important things to deal with."

"So do they," Davos speaks up again, raising his eyebrow at me. "The North is still very much a part of Westeros. We might be the first ones to be hit if they pass the Wall, but once they are done with us, they'll get to them. And they don't even know about it."

"The crown was informed of the threat a long time ago." I remind him.

"The crown?" Davos laughs incredulously. "Which one? You have one too. You might not wear it on your luscious locks, but your people threw it on you," I roll my eyes at his comment. As much as I like his honesty, it can be irritating at times. "Cersei Lannister might know, but she dismissed it and you know it. Even she never even gave it a second thought. But the Targaryen girls were in Essos just days ago. If any words from Westeros reached them at all, I guarantee you none of them were about the White Walkers."

"They'll find out soon enough," I tell him. "What we have now won't be enough to stop them. It won't even be enough to make a dent in their numbers. You may be aware of the threat, Ser Davos, but you have not seen them. I have. The Lannisters, with all their forces, would not be able to stop them. Neither would the Targaryen girls, not even with ten dragons. I won't be able to stop them, but I'll be damned if I do not try to do so."

They probably wouldn't believe me. I didn't understand, not until I saw it. And if they see it… there will be no one left to understand. None of them, none of those southerners will ever know or understand, not until the white walkers knock at their doors and I doubt they will politely await an invitation to come inside.

"You're right, your Grace," Davos nods his head. "We won't even make a dent. They won't be able to do anything, they won't know what hit them. However, together… We might make a dent. We might be able to stop them even."

"You obviously do not know Cersei Lannister," I shake my head, chuckling at the very idea of making that woman consider the well-being of anyone other than herself. "She won't care, not until they are marching through King's Landing. And even then, she might still be in denial."

"What of the Targaryens?"

At first, I did not think he was actually suggesting it. It is ridiculous. It wouldn't work.

"I'm sure they will be well aware of our failure in time to try to do something," I mumble. "If they had any common sense, they would have stayed in Essos."

"As you should have stayed on the Wall and left Winterfell in the hands of Ramsay Bolton?"

"It's not the same," I disagree. "It is absolutely not the same."

"It is exactly the same," Davos comments. "I always thought that Stannis was the most stubborn person I ever met, but you are giving him quite a run for it. Never thought I would get to serve another stubborn King."

"I am not stubborn, Davos," I disagree with him yet again. "I simply do not want to waste valuable time on a useless cause. Valuable time I could use to prepare for the war ahead. They are bickering. They are playing, waiting to see who will attack first. Both of those houses are playing their little game. I don't want to get in the middle of this, not when the dead could attack at any given moment."

"You wouldn't be wasting valuable time if they decide to help, your Grace."

"They wouldn't."

"And you know them so well?" Davos asks. He has a point, I will give him that, but I can't risk it. It would take me weeks, if not months to travel to where they are and return home. I can't afford to waste such time, not when I know that they probably wouldn't be traveling back with their armies to help me. Cersei Lannister would never listen and by the sound of it, the Targaryen girls are simply thirsty for revenge.

"I don't need to know them. It's out of the question, Ser Davos," I tell him, holding my ground. "I can't afford to waste that time. It's too big of a risk. If an opportunity occurs, I might change my mind but right now, the Wall and how long it will stand is my only care."

The magic of the Wall might not be enough. I am certain it is not enough. Once they pass it, we are all dead. There is no force in this world that could stop them. What Davos suggested, all of us working together… I doubt it would work even then. We will put up a fight, I will put up a fight but the truth is that we are all living on borrowed time. We need an impossible amount of luck along with an impossibly big army. I can't watch as the Lannisters and the Targaryens fight over a kingdom that will be dead soon enough. If they show a sign of wanting to hear me out, I might change my mind.

Right now, I have an army of dead men to stop.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Here's a new one for you. It took me a while but hey, it's better to have quality than quantity, right? :D**

 **I am very happy with how this story is growing. I promise you, I have a few twists in store for this one as well. We're taking it nice and slow but I think that by the end of it, you'll have a pretty good idea what's going to happen in the next one ;)**

 **I hope you like it. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

"I don't like it," I say, watching as the occupants of the room tense at my words. Dany and Tyrion do not look surprised but they do not look pleased either. "I understand that those priestesses have helped us before but I don't think it's a good idea to bring them to Westeros. I was raised in the Faith of the Seven. Althea was born and raised in the North but she brought me up in the religion our family practiced. Our family believed in the Seven. The Westerosi people believe in the Seven and you wish to rule them. They'll already be suspicious of you because of your foreign armies. How do you think they'll feel if you bring a foreign priestess too?"

I might not be narrow-minded but something tells me the Westerosi might be. I remember the stories that uncle Oberyn told me over the years, about how people judged him, simply because he chose to live as a free man. Dorne is more open and accepting than the other six Kingdoms but I have a feeling that even the Dornish would raise their eyebrows at a Red Priestess, preaching about a fire god.

The difference between a ruler and the common people should be seen. The only problem is, Dany wasn't raised to be their ruler. They did not know that a silver haired dragon queen from the east would one day rule them. They don't know her and she doesn't know them. If she wants their respect and even affection one day, she will need to adapt. I know that she is aware of that, she might be even more aware of that than I am, but she has never been the best at adapting.

Adapting is not easy. I would struggle with it, I know I would. Growing up in Essos, a land that didn't have a culture as… _strict_ as Westeros is… I had a freedom that I could never recreate here. Not even if I was Rhae, just a simple young women. Let alone know when I assume my place as Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.

"She already left," Dany shakes her head. "She advised me and then left. I'm not bringing her anywhere."

"Then why did you ask her for advice anyway?" I ask in confusion.

"Because Lord Tyrion knows this Jon Snow," she tells me, looking over at her Hand. Tyrion is not making eye contact with either one of us; he is simply staring ahead. "Cersei would never bend the knee to me and proclaim me as her Queen. Jon Snow might," she concludes.

"He might?" I raise my eyebrows. "Dany, why would he do that?" I ask her.

"Why wouldn't he? I am the rightful Queen."

"Yes, you are," I agree, nodding my head. "But as far as we know, his people made him a King. They want one of their own ruling them. And Grandfather murdered his grandfather and uncle. So why would he bend the knee?"

"Jon Snow is not like that," Tyrion speaks up. "I know the boy. He is not after power."

"Well, he has it, nonetheless," I shrug my shoulders. "How did you get to know him, my Lord? When did you two meet?"

"Many years ago, when I went to Winterfell with the royal family."

"When he was a young bastard son, not a king," I remind him. "Power changes people. Us three know that better than anyone."

"I won't give Jon Snow much of a choice," Dany speaks up, giving me a pointed look. Well, if we have to use dragons to force people to follow us, why not? That has to be a good way of gaining respect. "If he decides to pay us a visit, he will bend the knee. And if he chooses to ignore our invitation, I will give him one more chance to swear fealty to house Targaryen, just as Aegon did for his ancestor. If he refuses, the same destiny that awaits Cersei Lannister will await him," she tells us as she walks away from the table. She leaves the room, leaving Tyrion and me in complete silence.

She has a realistic approach. Offer an alliance. If the King in the North refuses, do the one thing that you can do. Fight them. It is proper; she is not breaking any rules. She is a conqueror and this is war. I am just afraid that she doesn't really know how many people have no interest in building alliances with us.

Both of us grew up outside of Westeros and while we carry the Targaryen name and have the blood of the dragon, I doubt that means anything to the people of this land. They did not live in peace and prosperity while my family had the throne. I could lie to myself and claim that it was perfect. It might have been better than what they had with Robert Baratheon, it might even be better than what they have now, with Cersei Lannister as their Queen, but it was not perfect. My grandfather was not a good ruler. As much as I would like to believe that he was, the man was mad and evil. And my Father, the beloved heir that should have saved them from it all, the dragon they all had such high hopes for, nearly destroyed it all.

"The King in the North will not come here." I speak out, breaking the strangely comfortable silence between me and Tyrion.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I wouldn't," I reply honestly. I am not surprise when I see a questioning look on Tyrion's face. "If some dragon Queen from a distant land came to my land and claimed it as hers, demanding me to bend the knee and join her, without even questioning it… I would burn the letter."

"And would you show up if you did not know you needed to bend the knee?" Tyrion mumbles.

"What?"

"What if I did not mention… that part?" he asks. "What if Jon Snow believes that you and Queen Daenerys simply want to speak to him. Not that you are inviting him to bend the knee?"

"Tyrion Lannister, what have you done?" I ask, surprised at how my voice was a whisper.

"I have made sure Jon Snow comes to Dragonstone." he states.

"By not telling him that Dany wants him to bend the knee?" I ask. Tyrion's silence tells me enough. "And she doesn't know you omitted that little detail, does she?" once again, his silence tells it all. "Oh, Tyrion, you have made a terrible mistake. If the meeting happens, it will not end well."

If Jon Snow shows up on our doorstep, I fear that the meeting will end like the one between Aerys and Brandon Stark rather than Ageon and the Northern King who kneelt. Seven Hells, the two might try to kill each other! If he refuses, Dany will not take that lightly but he has every right to refuse! The only good thing about this is that Jon is coming to us and not the other way around. And I suppose that having three dragons does help our cause.

"It might end better than you think."

"Oh, you best hope it does," I sigh, scowling at the man, still not quite believing his words. Did he really do that? I understand his reasoning but if Dany finds out, it will not end well. "If it doesn't end well, Dany will not have a Hand anymore."

* * *

"Why must I go through this?" I sigh, twitching once again as Keira pulls at my hair, causing a tiny yank of pain on my scalp. I understand why I must look presentable. I am a Princess now, after all. But braids do not make me look presentable. I can look equally good with my hair down and I can avoid the pain, but Keira insisted. The only reason why I agreed to it was because everyone else of importance seems to be sporting them. Dany, and even Yara, the salt and rock Queen. Ellaria doesn't, but Ellaria is hardly important.

"Princess, you know I consider you to be my family," Keira tells me and I can just hear the laughter hidden in her voice. She seems to find this quite humorous. "I respect you and love you dearly, but in a royal court, you stick out like a sore thumb."

"I do not!" I gasp, genuinely surprised at her words.

"Yes, you do," she laughs, once again pulling my hair a bit too hard for my liking. "Even I notice it and I am just a maid. You might have royal blood in you, but you were not raised like that, Princess."

"Neither was Dany," I remind her.

"No, she was not. But the Queen has had more preparation than you. You told me yourself, she spent half her life thinking she would marry her brother, becoming the rightful Queen of Westeros by his side. She grew preparing for that possibility. You did not."

"I had help, Keira," I shake my head, making her grab a hold of it and firmly turn it around to face the wall; I am not supposed to move. "You know very well I did not grow up in the streets."

I could have. If Oberyn Martell had had a bit more sanity, I would have. Luckily for me, my uncle acted absolutely insane. When he got a letter from a woman claiming to have little Rhaenys Targaryen by her side, he did not throw it into the fire. No, he was mad enough to travel all the way to Essos to see me for himself. Perhaps kill Althea if she was lying. Luckily for me, he had a good memory.

"No, you did not," Keira agrees. "But you grew up free."

"And now that freedom is long gone."

I can't tell if I feel sad or not. I suppose it is too soon to tell if I will truly miss it.

After all, I still have it, to a certain extent. So long as Dany gives up on making me her heir, I might get to keep it for good. Although I am not sure if keeping her away from such an idea is something I am capable of. She can be very headstrong if she wants to. Then again, so can I.

"I don't think your freedom is gone, Princess," Keira reassures me.

"Oh, really? Then why can't I wear my hair down, like I did for my entire life?"

"Pulling that wild hair away from that beautiful face of yours is not losing your freedom, Princess," Keira tsked. "It is simply to make you look more presentable."

"But for whom?" I ask, turning around in my chair, which only causes Keira to turn my head forward once again. If she does it to me one more time, I'll walk around with only half braided hair. "All of our guests have already seen me at my worst. Why try to deceive them when they are already well aware of the truth?"

"Because it is the proper thing to do."

It is as simple as that. With that little sentence, Keira has vanquished my stubborn resistance . I have chosen to accept my name and the legacy it carries with it; I have no choice but to face the consequences.

I suppose I could turn away from it. I have lived in hiding for almost 20 years. Would it truly harm anyone if I went into hiding again? Running away from all of this, from all the tension and responsibility, all the pressure and what is proper? Dany would still fight to get her crown; just without me. I could do it and I would not be missed by anyone other than her. Missandei and Lord Tyrion might miss my presence for a little while but they would undoubtedly get used to the lack of my winning personality. I could do it. Perhaps I should do it.

But it is too late. It's not about presenting myself to the world as a Targaryen. It's about me accepting it. Which I have done. Whether I like it or not, I am one of the two last remaining members of a great dynasty. A dynasty that joined kingdoms and ruled for many years. I have the blood of the dragon in me, the blood of Kings. I could run for leagues and my place would still be here.

"Well, I hope it's worth a damn to someone because it's bloody annoying and tiresome to me."

And with that one sentence, I vanquish Keira's optimism.

There is a reason why I hate doing things like this. I don't like someone pulling my hair, that is true. But I hate more how time consuming it is. I have waited for Keira to make me more presentable for a long time. By the time she is finally done and I looked presentable, I am one step away from running out of my chambers. Keeping my manners in mind, I walk out of my chambers like a proper princess.

At this point, Dragonstone had become a sort of prison to me. I either dream about people I do not wish to dream of or I hold my breath with each corner I pass, waiting for some ghost to jump out at me. The list of people I wish to avoid only grows with each passing day.

It was bound to happen. I nearly run into Daemon.

I feel that familiar panic rising in me as I look up at him. To my surprise, he just nods his head and walks past me. And I am feeling way too disappointed for someone who wanted him to do just that.

Our liaison had to end. It was never healthy to begin with. I want him purely in a physical way and that desire is not as strong as it once was. I was a stupid child seeking foolish pleasure. I don't think I'm much smarter now but I am more mature than I was then. I know I can't play around with soldiers and squires, no matter how much Uncle Oberyn tried to convince me that I have needed and deserved such freedom.

I still remember the day he found out about Daemon and me. I was stupid enough to think that we were acting inconspicuous. Daemon was his squire and I was his niece. Not to mention that Uncle Oberyn was one of the smartest people I have ever met. It was foolish of me to think that he would not realize what was going on, right under his nose. I remember the pure fear that took hold of me when he told me that he knew about the two of us. To this day, I have never felt more frightened in my entire life. I was so frightened that I did not even felt relief when he started laughing. The fear did die down when he told me that what I have been doing is completely normal and I should not be ashamed by it. I am still unsure if I agree with that or not.

I need to leave this association behind, whatever it actually is.

* * *

The first time that Dany and I ever had a serious, honest conversation, I thought she was exaggerating when she had called the dragons her children. I could understand the bond between them but calling them her children? That sounded… well, insane, even to me, another Targaryen. However, it did not take me long to see that bond with my own two eyes and to realize that she truly was their mother. Not their owner, their mother.

It did not take me too long to form a bond with them myself.

" _A dragon recognizes a dragon_ ," Dany had said.

I was the only one who could approach them, apart from Dany herself. Not even when they were chained up in the Meereen dungeons were they hostile towards me. They recognized me as someone with Targaryen blood. They made Dany believe the impossible when I had stepped forward and told her the truth. In a way, they saved my life.

It was Rhaegal who warmed up to me the most. Dany jokes that he likes me better than he likes her. I can see it too, how he clearly favors me the most out of the three of them. Drogon and Viseris would never attack me, they allow me to touch and pet them as well, but Rhaegal turns into a very big and very dangerous pup when I am around.

Rhaegal being the one who bonded with me is like rubbing salt into an already festering wound. He is named after Rhaegar. As was I. I was named after my father, despite sharing the same name as one of the greatest Queens that the Targaryen dynasty have ever had.

I cannot escape his legacy no matter how hard I try. And the more it closes in on me, the angrier I become. I wish there was a way for me to escape him while at the same time accepting my name and my family's legacy. But I can't do both. I feel as if I'm slowly succumbing to my family's infamous madness.

I cannot see Rhaegar as the man Ser Barristan speaks about. I cannot see the Rhaegar who Dany likes to imagine. I only see a man whom showed such great promise, a man who gave people hope, who then betrayed his family, his kingdom, his people, all for the sake of his own selfish, carnal needs.

He was weak and selfish and a liar. A person who has power should never be any of those things. I don't want to avoid ruling because I don't want the responsibility or because I want to keep the little freedom I have. The truth is that I am just like him, weak and selfish. And the only difference is that I will do my best to not let it affect those who depend on me. I won't become a liar like him too.

I will never be like him. I will fight my own weaknesses with everything I have and I will put my family, kingdom, and people before my own needs. And to avoid another tragedy like the one he had caused, I will stay away from any position of power. Unfortunately for me, I cannot escape his legacy completely.

Next to me, Rhaegal makes a noise. As far as my knowledge of dragon noises goes, he's unhappy.

"What is it, you beautiful beast?" I ask as I pet him on the iridescent green scales on the side of his head. Once upon a time, he was small enough to rest his head on my lap. If he was to do it now, I would be crushed. And I have an unsettling feeling that he still has more to grow. If Rhaegal, Drogon and Viserion grow even bigger than they are now… well, we are lucky they can find food on their own. "Am I not paying enough attention to you?" I wonder and smile when Rhaegal makes a pleasant noise as I continue petting him. In so many ways, he truly is like an enormous pup that can breathe fire. "You may be a huge beast but deep down you are just a pup, aren't you. A pup that could burn us all within seconds but you would never do that, would you?" I chuckle.

I am speaking to myself. I might be speaking to a dragon but he is not going to respond, is he?

"Go on," I tap him on the head and he takes it as a sign to raise himself. "Fly. Enjoy your freedom. Have some fun without me," I laugh. It is as if he can understand every single word I have said. He starts flapping his wings, and in a matter of moments, he was off the ground, flying to join his brothers. Or should I say sisters? Dragons have no gender but Dany had given them names after men. In my eyes, they are male. And mine and Rhaegal's bond is just a very ironic symbol.

As I walk back towards the castle, I see a commotion. It doesn't appear to be serious, but more people are coming outside. I can see them preparing a carriage and some horses.

Are we going somewhere?

It is only when I walk through the castle gates that I notice that they are Tyrell men, not Dany's Unsullied or Dothraki. It takes me a moment to notice Lady Olenna, the last living Tyrell, getting ready to get into the carriage.

Lady Olenna… she's quite the character. I did not have a chance to speak to her in private but I have heard speak at the council meeting. She strikes me as a woman of no compromise, who has lived long enough to see though the petty power game that everyone in Westeros seems to enjoy playing. She never though holds her tongue, that is certain. I am still uncertain if I like her or not but I do know that I would rather have her company than Ellaria's.

They are supposed to sail to Dorne tomorrow. That moment can't come soon enough.

"Lady Olenna," I speak up, causing the woman to turn to me. "Are you leaving already?" I wonder.

"What am I to do here?" she asks. "Brood with the rest of you? You'll do just fine on your own. I will send my army to do your aunt's bidding and lock myself up in the highest tower of Highgarden until the fighting is over."

It makes sense. A woman of her age, what else could she do? At least she is offering us her men.

"You might be locked in that tower for a long time," I point out with a shrug. "I am hardly a skilled military commander but even I know that wars can last for a very long time."

"I'll either wait it out or die," she offers me a casual smile. "You are still young, child. You have an energy about you. As does that aunt of yours. I admire you for that. If I was your age, I would have been right here with you. But with the years behind me and my family dead, there's not much left for me."

She is the last one. It isn't difficult for me to imagine what that must feel like. Despite knowing that Daenerys and Viserys were alive, somewhere, I had always felt alone. For so many years, I had felt a heavy loneliness despite the people that surrounded me. It isn't difficult to imagine such a feeling being permanent. And it only reminds me why it was a smart move of me to seek out Dany.

The only thing that is keeping Lady Olenna going is her thirst for revenge. This is real revenge, not whatever Ellaria has tried to sell. She simply wanted power and used revenge as an excuse, fooling even Oberyn's daughters. That shouldn't have been too difficult, in all honesty. They might be capable warriors but they are not particularly intelligent. But Lady Olenna is. And her desire for revenge is real.

"I hope your family does get avenged," I tell her, knowing very well that doing that would mean we would have to end Cersei Lannister. Cersei Lannister has done a great deal of insane, evil things but burning the Grand Sept in King's Landing, killing half of the Tyrell family and hundreds of her own people had to be the worst thing she has ever done. And for it she was crowned queen on the iron throne, just days after the death of her last child. "No one should die the way they did."

"No," Lady Olenna shakes her head. "Nor should a Princess spend her life across the Narrow Sea, dreaming of her home, dreaming of the day she might rule."

"I have never had those dreams, my Lady."

"And it's a good thing you haven't," she tells me. "You are… hot headed, too rash, too impulsive. Your aunt is too but not like you are. You have a wilderness about you, Princess. You would not make a good ruler. It is not an insult."

"I did not take it as an insult," I shake my head. "It is an honestly spoken opinion that I whole heartedly agree with."

"It is," she smiles at me. "I can see how the two of you are similar and even more how you are different. She has the patience and the heart to rule well one day. You do not. You might have a kind heart, but you are far too wild to ever be confined. You would be a weak ruler."

"I know," I can't hold back a smile. "Perhaps over time I will learn but now, at this very moment, I truly believe Cersei Lannister makes a better ruler than I ever could."

"Oh, bite your tongue!" Lady Olenna snaps. "Even with your flaws, you would be a thousand times more a queen then that vile snake will ever be. That being said, I hope you do learn. My granddaughter was a fast learner. Margaery could wrap anyone around her finger," she tells me wistfully and I can see the pure sadness in her eyes as she speaks about her family. "You'd best be a fast learner as well. With these wars ahead, we don't only need a good Queen, we need a good spare."

I don't want that, I truly don't. Yet at this point, can I even stop it?

"I hope we will meet again soon, Lady Olenna," I force a smile, trying to hide the distaste I feel, caused by her words. She seems like a woman who can read those emotions fairly easily and I do not want that to happen. "I wish you a safe trip back to your home."

"Best of luck to you, child," she nods her head, not smiling anymore. "You will need it."

I watch as she boards the carriage, wondering why no one is here to see her away. Perhaps they have already said their goodbyes as I spent the day fixing my hair and hiding away with dragons?

Lady Olenna does have a point. Whether I like it or not, I have to learn fast and I need to put forth my best effort. I will not learn fast if I keep on trying to distance myself from every problem we face. Yes, I was present for every council meeting but I have left early, leaving the others to deal with the problems. I might not want to have the burden on my shoulders but I can hardly run away from it.

The more I try to run, the faster it will chase me, my family's legacy. And once it finally gets me, I will pay the price for trying to escape it in the first place.

The time has come for me to grow up and accept who I truly am.

* * *

How did I manage to convince Sansa that this was a good idea when every bone in my body is telling me that it is not?

I am going into enemy territory. Daenerys Targaryan has not yet declared me to be the enemy but it is evident why she invited me here and I imagine it will be a matter of days before she decides to do so. And what am I doing? I am going to knock on her door, asking her to help fight creatures she probably won't believe in. I probably shouldn't have left Winterfell and chances are, I will never return. Just as many Northerners have taken to saying, when a Stark goes south, they never return.

"Ser Davos, am I completely mad?" I ask the man next to me, knowing he will understand exactly what I mean by the question. I try to ignore Ghost as he nudges my leg with his head, but the wolf is persistent. I pet him on the head, still waiting for Ser Davos to answer my question.

"If you are mad, what does that make me?" her simply asks in return. I should have known that he would hide his true opinion in a jest. The man is smart but he often jokes at the most inappropriate times. "I will not deny that this is dangerous and possibly very stupid. You are aware of that. However, I will remind you that Daenerys Targaryen is our only hope."

"And what do we do if our only hope decides not to help us?" I ask.

"Well, you've mentioned Lord Tyrion," Davos says. "You seem to hold him in high regards and judging by the raven we received, he thinks the same of you. He is the Hand of the Queen, he must have some influence over the Queen. If you can convince him to believe you, he might be able to do the same to her. If she denies it, try to convince those around her."

"Her sister?"

"Niece," Davos corrects me. "She might be older than the Queen, but she is still her niece. And yes. I doubt the Queen is unreasonable but if she proves to be… difficult to speak with, we should try to speak to her closest allies. If you do not wish to speak with the Dragon Queen, Lord Tyrion and her niece are our best options, Your Grace."

"They have three dragons," I sigh as I look down at my direwolf. Ghost has been nothing but a faithful companion, saving my life more times than I would like to admit. Yet he would not last a second against a dragon and neither would we. "Not only are going to an enemy territory but we are going to knock on the door of a much powerful enemy."

"But they are not the enemy, Your Grace," Davos gives me a pointed look. "Not yet, at least. Let us speak to them before we brand them as foes. For all we know, they might be our saviors. You have already said that they are our only hope."

"Aye, they could be our saviors," I nod, the uncertainty of my decision only growing the closer we get to our destination. I am certain they cannot wait to ride the dragons and fight the dead. That must have been their plan from the beginning. "

"People change, Your Grace," Davos tells me, shaking his head. "I never thought a day would come when I would be advising a King other than Stannis Baratheon. When you took the black, I doubt you ever could have imagined you would be asking the Targaryens for help to fight against the army of the dead. We have all faced difficulties our wildest imaginations could not produce. The Targaryens might have returned to Westeros with the intention to rule but when they see and hear of the danger we all are facing, who's to say that they will not become the very thing that saves us?"

"I never realized you were such an optimistic man."

"Neither did I," Davos chuckles, only to go back to being serious in a blink of an eye. "But like I've said, Your Grace. People change."

* * *

 **Guys, let me know what you think, I'm dying for some feedback! It keeps me going and writing at a good pace. So... pretty please?**

 **What do you think of Rhae? What do you see happening? What do you think about Jon's possible parentage and the ultimate question, what do you think about Rhae's feelings towards Rhaegar? Let me know! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, this one took a while :D**

 **I had to battle a writer's block and I had to organize with my beta and… ugh, it just got crazy. But here I am, with a new chapter for you. Thank you to darkwolf76, it would not be possible without her! :)**

 **And thank YOU, for reading. If you like the story, you know what to do. And please, gimme some feedback, I'm dying to know what you think about this. I've been MIA but I will respond! So, please, let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy the chapter! :)**

* * *

I pull the cloak tighter against my skin as I watch the ships sail away from Dragonstone, both with the bright Martell and grim Greyjoy sigils on their sails. I may not be a naval expert but I can tell that the wind is blowing in the right direction; it should help them get to Dorne faster, so long as they keep far enough from King's Landing.

That is, at first. After all the Dornish soldiers board the ships, the fleet will close in on the capital. By tomorrow night, Grey Worm will lead the Unsullied towards Casterly Rock. We are no longer entertaining the prospect of a war; we are starting one.

As nervous as I feel about that, I cannot help but feel relieved by the lack of Dornish around the castle. For one, I will no longer have to run into Daemon in the dark hallways. After that one night, he hadn't made another attempt to get close to me but I preferred avoiding him all together. All the Sand Snakes had tried to talk to me at one point or another, but I brushed them off just as I did with Obara, not wanting to waste another moment on those kinslayers. What I am most thankful for is that I will no longer have to look upon Ellaria's face. Her continued presence alone would have made me want to go through all the best wine Dragonstone had in its cellars, all by myself.

"Well, that's over." I sigh, vocalizing my relief I feel at them leaving.

"Princess Rhaenys, remind me again, why haven't you stood up and claimed Dorne for yourself?" I hear Lord Tyrion ask. When I turn to look at him, he is staring at the ships with the same hatred I feel.

"I didn't want to," I answer honestly with a shrug. "We will deal with that once the war is over and done with."

"I truly hope so."

"Why are the two of you so adamant that Ellaria Sand should not be our ally?" Dany speaks up in annoyance. I see Lord Varys and Missandei looking away, knowing this should be a private conversation.

"She murdered my niece," Tyrion tells her. "A Lannister, yes. But also an innocent child."

"She killed my uncle and my cousin," I add to the list of Ellaria's sins. "She claimed Dorne for herself even if she has no claim. The Sand Snakes have a better claim then she does. Not to mention how she insults the memory of my other uncle, naming it all revenge for his death. I do not like her and I will never pretend otherwise. But I will endure her presence for the sake of wining this war, just as I will feel relief whenever she leaves."

I am not an immature child. I know very well why her presence is needed. It could have been different and I am the reason it is not. I do not want to rule nor do I plan on changing my mind. Therefore, having Ellaria rule it is our best option. If that means I have to bare that murderous hag's presence, I will. I have done it for the past few weeks. I could not stop my harsh remarks, no matter how hard I tried, but I did not harm that alliance nor will I. It's about time for Dany to recognize it. Despite my distaste, I am respecting her decision. In a way, I am making more sacrifices than she is. After all, Ellaria didn't kill her family.

She needs to remember that I am a Martell just as much as I am a Targaryen.

Not to mention that "a Lannister always pays his debt", as Lord Tyrion says. A day will come when he and I will make Ellaria answer for the crimes she has committed against our families. Hopefully, it will be by my sword. She will pay one day, but not until this war is settled and Dany sits on the Iron Throne. I am fine with that. I can wait.

I know Dany respects me. She loves and accepts me as her family, her only family, but she needs to realize that she isn't the only one who's had to face trials and tribulations to get to where she is now. I might not be the Mother of Dragons, or a Queen, but my life had its own difficulties. It would be nice if she would simply trust that I wouldn't make a mistake that could harm our cause. I am being particularly careful to avoid doing just that. She may be my aunt and she may claim that throne as her own but I am older and I do have a better claim, as the last surviving child of the former crown prince. I do not plan on ever using it but it would be nice if she stopped patronizing me.

* * *

I started training with Oberyn when I was still a child. With him as my mentor, I managed to become quite good with a spear. I am decent with a sword and I did learn how to control a whip with the help of his daughter but I am still a novice, compared to my skill with a spike.

And I truly am good.

When I got a chance to meet Ser Barristan Selmy, the greatest swordsman from Westeros and one of the best this world has ever known, I wasted no time. Despite disagreeing with him on some things, it did not matter to me because he was Ser Barristan Selmy! I did not care what he thought of my father, I just wanted to learn from him.

And I did. I remember how Dany used to find it amusing that I would take the commander of her Kingsguard to teach me how to master a sword, but she allowed it nonetheless. I was taught by the best. And our lessons were more than just swinging swords. We would talk about anything and everything, even joke. After a while, he even started talking about my family, though avoiding talking about Rhaegar Targaryen, knowing that was not a topic I had a particular desire to discus. I respected Ser Barristan Selmy even before I had laid eyes on him. And over time, I have grown to love the man, as a teacher, a mentor and as someone whom I just… enjoy spending time with.

I grieved deeply at his death. Yet another death of someone I loved. I still grieve, but for the memory of Ser Barristan, I have continued to train, whenever I could.

Grey Worm is always more than happy to help. I think he finds it amusing, even if he never lets it show on his face. Now, with him gone, I had no one to practice with.

That is simply… the very tip of an iceberg. Yes, I would love to have someone to train with but in all truthfulness, I am more worried about whether or not my friend will come back alive or if I will have one death to mourn.

How do I deal with frustration? I train. And lately, I have been feeling very frustrated.

I do not have anything to hit so I simply practice the dance Oberyn had tried to teach me.

" _Do not look at your feet!"_ he had yelled at me, snarling like some fearsome beast. _"If you're looking at your feet, how will you see what your opponent is doing? You will be killed in an instant if you are not vigilant!"_

I had loved him dearly. He had been a father to me, but he never was a patient man. He often acted short with me but I truly believe that is the reason I learned so much. When you are faced with the pressure of living up to someone's expectations, it is difficult to give up. Giving up would have been the ultimate failure and embarrassment and I could not give Oberyn one reason more to be angry with me.

And now I know I can do it. Now it might just be the only thing I am good at.

"Princess," I turn around to see Rass, walking into the room with my sword in hand. I have managed to find a large, empty room that was of no use to anyone and I have claimed it as a training room. It is open to anyone and I imagine Rass had found me with ease. After being by my servant and one of my closest companions for five years, it would be a surprise if he did not. "Your sword is sharpened."

"Thank you, Rass," I nod as I put down my spear. I need to stop for a moment. I wipe the sweat off my forehead. When I practice I truly practice. I watch as Rass gently lays my sword on a desk, nodding his head once before heading towards the door. "Rass, hold on."

"What is the matter, Princess?" he asks, turning around to wait for my order.

Rass and I are friends. Perhaps we are more formal to one another than Keira and I are but we are still friends. I can remember the worry on his face as he tried to convince me to not walk into Dany's war camp, completely defenseless. To be fair, at the time, he had no idea who I truly was. We have been through quite a lot, the three of us, and I try to look out for their well-being, just as they look out for mine.

"Do you plan on telling Keira about how you feel about her or will that secret die with you?"

I truly am too bold for my own good at times. I watch as all color leaves Rass's face. I expected him to feel uncomfortable with the subject but I did not imagine seeing pure and utter fear on his face.

"I do not know what you speak of, Princess," he tells me. I say nothing, letting the look on my face speak for itself. It is one thing to avoid the subject and another to try to bluntly deny it. It may be none of my business but he shouldn't insult my intelligence in such a way. Even Rass can see how useless if is to deny it any longer. The fear leaves him, he drops his act and now, he looks nervous. "Certain things are not easily said, Princess."

"If it is refusal you fear, I wouldn't worry too much about it," I tell him. I am not going to out Keira, especially since she never told me but I can tell. And she had her own way to admitting it. It won't hurt if I give Rass a little encouragement to just bloody get on with it. "Think about it. You really have nothing to worry about, I think."

"Even if you are right, she… she deserves better."

"And what is wrong with you?" I ask in indignation. I detest when people refuse to see themselves as they truly are, when they ignore the potential they have. What is wrong with Rass? Nothing. He is a handsome man, has a working brain in his head, a decent job. He is not a warrior, so he will most likely survive this war too. Why would he believe that he is not good enough for Keira? "I hate to break this to you but Rass, this is hardly your choice. She's the one who gets to decide what she thinks she deserves or not. Not you."

"Princess, this is not a topic I wish to discuss."

"There's nothing to discuss anymore," I shrug. Once again, he is ready to leave the room but I decide to speak up again. "If you should be discussing this with anyone, it's Keira. Gods be good Rass, don't wait for her to come to you." I tell him, glad he at least listens to my words before bolting from the room.

Perhaps I am looking at it in a wrong way? The men I have been close to my entire life never were ones to shy away from a challenge. Uncle Oberyn would be flirtatious with a shovel, if he thought a shovel was interesting enough. The man impregnated a bloody Septa! And Daemon, my own lover… well, when he wanted something, he went for it. Tyrion Lannister seems like a man who would not have a problem with admitting his affections and Daario Naharis had always been straightforward with Dany.

I need to stop thinking of passion and love as equals.

All of them are or were, fools for passion. None of them were truly in love. And Rass… he loves Keira. He doesn't just want her to warm his bed, he loves her with all his heart. I can see it, he knows it and I believe Keira is starting to believe in it as well. Love is different. Love is more… complicated, a complication I have been lucky enough to avoid.

* * *

"Why shouldn't I join Tyrion to greet them?" I ask Dany in confusion. "You sitting on the throne will be an impressive sight on its own; you don't need me on the side to leave a stronger impression. Not to mention that a Targaryen greeting them might leave a… friendly impression?" I suggest.

I feel confused. Against all common sense, the beloved King in the North decided to accept the invitation Tyrion had sent on Dany's behalf. An entire welcoming committee will greet him on the shores of Dragonstone, but Dany has just told me that I am not allowed to join them.

"Because you are a princess," Dany tells me. I have known her for a while now and I do not think I have ever seen her look as stern as she does now. This is not a suggestion, it is an order. "I have no intention of treating him as my equal. Having a princess and my current heir greet him is not an honor he should have if he calls himself King and denies my claim to the throne."

I say nothing. I just give Tyrion a pointed look and as he looks down, I know he knows exactly what I am thinking about. Jon Snow is expecting a friendly meeting, but Dany is not acting very friendly at all.

This could end in blood and I will be right at the center of it. They… how will they possibly agree on anything? It is a good thing indeed that we are meeting them on our territory and not on their.

"Fine," I agree, once I realize that Dany isn't going to change her mind and that Tyrion will not come in my defense. After exchanging nods, Tyrion, Missandei and a few of the Dothraki leave the throne room, leaving Dany and I alone, save for the two Dothraki guarding the door. "I don't see why my presence here is of such importance. How are Tyrion and Missandei better than I am?"

"I will not have you close to them, not until they have handed over their weapons. You are too important." Dany tells me.

"Dany, I don't think they'll be very endeared to us if we make them give up their weapons." I point out.

"You did it once, before entering my camp."

"Yes, and it was a very stupid and risky decision on my part. I am lucky I am still alive after such a move," I tell her. To this day, I cannot stop thanking my lucky stars that Ser Barristan Selmy saw traces of Ellia and Rhaegar in me. Had he not been there, had he not recognized me, I don't think I would've lived long enough for her dragons to recognize my Targaryeon blood. "Besides, the situation is different. He is a King."

"A king I will not acknowledge and whom will not enter the castle if he refuses to surrender his weapon."

She is so much better at this than I could ever be, even with all the training in the world. I don't think I could ever be as elegant and threatening at the same time, not like Dany is. She might not have been born to rule but she has King's blood in her. She is meant to sit the iron throne.

"Very well," I nod, not wanting to argue a useless point. It is already too late. "Where do you want me to stand? Where do I look the most imposing?" I ask, sounding very much like a child that is being forced to do something it does not particularly enjoy. Sadly, that's not far from the truth.

"I will sit on the throne and I want you on my left," she tells me as she starts walking towards the throne. With no other choice, I follow her. "Missandei will introduce me and Lord Tyrion will stand in between. Actually, it might be better if you stand on my right. It is more symbolic. Tyrion Lannister might be my hand, but so are you. Besides, there is more lighting there."

"You are truly giving this thought," I mumble, impressed at the tiniest details she is noticing. I don't think I could ever have an eye for such trivial things, not even if I had someone walking before me, pointing it all out as we walk. "I imagine you want me to leave this behind?" I ask, touching my sword handle. I do not have a habit of carrying a sword tied to my waist wherever I go but I was about to have my daily practice when Missandei found me and said our visitors had arrived.

"Keep it," Dany tells me, narrowing her eyes at my sword from where she is seated, on the throne. Its not the throne she is meant to sit on but I wouldn't be surprise if she changes that. King's Landing is not our family's home, not anymore. "You know how to swing it damn well; you might as well show that to our guests."

"No, you just want to compensate for me not having such a majestic seat." I dead pan.

"Stop it," Dany laughs, trying surprisingly hard to stay serious. "Don't make me laugh now, of all times."

"Oh but why not?" I grin, seeing an opportunity right here. "Even if we giggle like two girls of ten, he is still going to piss his kingly pants when he sees us. Especially you, all grand, powerful and pretty."

"You don't fall behind in any of those things, Rhae," she gives me a pointed look, making me roll my eyes. Are we truly going to have to have this conversation again? Now, of all times? We are not equal, not in anything. She has more power than I do. She is more elegant than I am and she is most definitely prettier than I'll ever be. She can deny it all she likes, but I know the truth of it. "And Rhae, please don't say anything that will put us in an uncomfortable position." She adds.

I wish I could feel flabbergasted as to why she would even suggest that I'd do something like that but I truly can't be. On more than one occasion, my tongue had moved faster than my mind and even though I hadn't managed to start any wars, I am well aware how much trouble my words could cause. I need to train myself in handling my tongue the same way I have trained with a sword.

"Don't worry, Dany," I reassure her, smiling tightly. "I wasn't planning on speaking much anyway."

We are all completely silent as we wait for them to appear. Dany, myself, and four Dothraki soldiers, two by the door and two close to us. I can't tell for how long we are waiting, looking all magnificent and imposing but by the time the doors suddenly open, I can feel my heart skip a beat. Missandei charges into the room, followed by Tyrion. Moments after them, two men and a wolf follow them inside.

My eyes go to the wolf instantly, its snow white fur standing out in the darkness of the great, stone hall we are in. I try my best to keep my expression blank but that is no normal wolf. It is twice the size of the only other wolf I have seen in my life. What is the point of taking their weapons away if we allow this beast to enter the room with them? The wolf might just be the best weapon of all!

My eyes dart to the two men who stand by its side, one walking in front of the other. He is dark haired and quite handsome, if my eyes are not fooling me, given the distance between us. Despite the distance, it is easy to see that he looks quite uncomfortable. I look at the man standing slightly behind him, an older man with a more casual stance. It is easy to decipher which one is the King.

As Missandei starts introducing Dany, my eyes go back to the wolf. It is as gorgeous as it is frightening. It doesn't look too apprehensive, given that his master is in a room full of his enemies. My focus wonders back to the humans in the room once I notice the awkward silence that has settled over the hall.

"This is Jon Snow," the older man introduces the younger one, who seems even more uncomfortable at this point. It is evident he doesn't have the same regalness Dany has about her. We have something in common, I suppose. "He's King in the North."

Looking at the wolf, I take a step forward, feeling all eyes move to me at once. I imagine I am red in the face. "Don't mind me," I speak up, walking closer towards the wolf. "May I?" I ask Jon Snow, before glancing back at his wolf. After a moment, he nods his head and I take a step closer to it. It lowers his head, wary of me as I walk closer. I simply extend my hand towards the creature, placing my fingers only inches away from its snout.

It could bite them off in a second. And I realize that a moment too late, as the wolf starts sniffing my hand. If I retract it suddenly… I can't do it. I wait for it to nuzzle it out, almost laughing in relief when he nudges my hand with his head, the same way Rhaegal would do when he was much smaller and fishing for attention. I smile as I pet the wolf, watching as it melts at my touch. It takes me a moment to realize that the room is silent and when I turn around, I notice the look on Dany's face.

Oh, I will have to pay for this. Petting the enemy's animal in the middle of her grand royal introduction and verbal standoff? The price will be high, that is certain. I truly am behaving like a child.

"I meant what I said, don't mind us," I mumble, knowing that I cannot possibly make this situation worse. I will continue to pet the wolf as they have their talk, with a Dothraki soldier at the ready, should the wolf attack.

"Thank you for traveling so far, my lord," Dany finally speaks up, drawing attention away from me and my ridiculous action. "I hope the seas weren't too rough."

And there she goes. Calling him a lord. I look up at him, surprised to see him smiling.

"The winds were kind, your Grace."

I know that Dany does have a point in calling him a lord and not acknowledging his title, but it truly feels incredibly odd to see someone treat her with respect when she just insulted him.

"Apologies, your Grace," the man behind Jon Snow speaks up. Well, just because Jon Snow is a man with manners does not mean that his advisor is too. "I have a Flee Bottom accent, I know. But Jon Snow is _King_ in the North, Your Grace. He's not a Lord."

Not wanting to listen in on a history lesson and political bickering, I ignore them all, giving all of my attention to the giant wolf. The wolf seems to be more than happy about that. He already likes me enough to start licking my hands.

I don't know what it is about animals. Dogs, cats, dragons even, I have always been drawn to them and by some luck, most of them ended up liking me. This is no ordinary wolf; it is much bigger, perhaps a sort that only lives in the northern most part of Westeros. And yet here he is, behaving like a big pup. I am certain it could rip my throat out, if only his master commanded him to but still, it is fairly domesticated wolf, all things considered.

I only half-listen to what they are saying, already knowing it will turn into bickering within moments. I do have to say, I am impressed with the elegance Jon Snow carries himself with. Lord Tyrion didn't tell me much about him, other that the man was a lord's bastard and that he was never expected to be a lord, much less a King. I was expecting someone with fewer manners, rougher. And here he is, turning Daenerys Targaryen down in the most elegant ways possible. Unlikely for him, Dany can be fierce when provoked.

"I am not the enemy. The dead are the enemy."

Now my interest is peaked.

"The army of the dead?" Tyrion asks in disbelief. We all listen on as Jon Snow explains that the army of the dead is real, that creatures called the white walkers exist and that he had seen them, all the while sounding absolutely certain and looking absolutely sane as he tells the stuff of fairy tales.

As Dany speaks, I recall some of the stories Althea used to tell me when I was still but a child. She was from the North, just like Jon Snow. She must have told me the same stories he had listened to. I have heard of white walkers before, as well as the Night's King. I have heard stories. But that is just what they are. _Stories_.

Ser Davos, the man speaking on Jon's behalf, stands up in his King's defense.

"You don't believe him? I understand that it sounds like nonsense. But if destiny has brought Daenerys Targaryen back to our shores , it has also made Jon Snow King in the North. You were the first to bring Dothraki to Westeros? He is the first to make allies of wildlings and Northmen. He was named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he was named King in the North, not because of his birthright. He HAS no birthright, he's a damn bastard! All those hard sons of bitches chose him as their leader, because they believed in him. All those things you don't believe in, he faced those things, he fought those things for the good of his people. He risked his life for his people. He took a knife in the heart for his people. He gave his own…" Davos trails off. Jon gave him a look and the man goes silent at once. _He gave his what?_ "If we don't put aside our enmities and band together, we will die. And then it doesn't matter whose skeleton sits on the Iron Throne."

They truly believe this. Both of them, they truly believe in what they are saying.

It sounds like utter nonsense. But if someone had told me years ago that one day, I would be seeing three dragons, alive and well, growing by the day, I would have claimed that nonsense as well.

"And why would I do that?" Jon Snow snaps, causing me to pay attention to their words once again. He has lost his temper, that is evident. "I mean no offense, Your Grace, but I don't know you. As far as I can tell, your claim to the throne rests entirely on your father's name, and my own father fought to overthrow the Mad King. The lords of the North placed their trust in me to lead them, and I will continue to do so as well as I can."

Has Dany met her match?

This time, it is not me who takes the attention away from their little fight; Lord Varys runs into the room, slightly slowing down as he realizes he might just be interrupting the most important meeting Dragonstone had ever seen. I watch as he walks over to Dany, whispers something in her ear and steps aside. For a moment, a very brief moment, I see Dany's facial expression change, for only a second, before she straightens her back and looks at Jon Snow.

"You must forgive my manners," she speaks up, completely breaking the stream of thinly veiled insults the two had been exchanging. "You must both be tired after your long journey. We'll have baths drawn for you and supper sent to your rooms," she turns around, repeating the orders in Dothraki to her soldiers. The wolf nudges my hand one more time before strutting back to his master.

I watch as Jon Snow and Tyrion exchange a look, neither one of them too pleased with what is happening. I have told Tyrion that it was a horrible mistake. Had I've been informed that he was making it before he did, I would have stopped him. I suppose we will live to see the consequences.

My eyes meet the eyes of Jon Snow but he looks away after a mere moment, not giving anything away. I doubt he even realizes who I am at this point. Unlike Dany, I wasn't introduced. And as so many liked to point out over the years, I look nothing like a Targaryen.

And that all will have to wait. Whatever Lord Varys told Dany, it is not good. I know her well enough to recognize that she is seething under the surface, despite hiding it so well from others.

"Am I your prisoner?" Jon Snow speaks up, causing Dany to turn around as she walks away.

"Not yet."

A bloodrider escorts Jon Snow, Ser Davos and the wolf out of the throne room, closing the doors behind them. The moment the doors shuts, the queenly act stops. Dany looks worried as she turns to Lord Varys and we all do the same, waiting.

"Our Ironborn and Dornish allies were attacked en route to Dorne."

"And?" Dany asks.

I might have desired to hear that Ellaria is dead and gone but it was supposed to happen after the war, not during it!

"Two or three ships escaped. The rest, sunk or captured," Varys tells us. "Ellaria and the Sand Snakes, dead or captured. The Greyjoys, dead or captured."

"All of them?" Dany asks.

"All of them." Varys confirms.

I can only come to one conclusion. We are fucked.


End file.
